


A Little Less Empty

by Fictionalcasualties



Series: A Little Less Empty [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, bitty and jack are cuties, i just want my son Kent to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionalcasualties/pseuds/Fictionalcasualties
Summary: So yes, Kent has stumbled back to his apartment completely loaded before and has made it in one piece completely fine. This is the first time, however, he has actually run into someone; completely oblivious to his surroundings. The man yelped in surprise as about three boxes fell to the ground. They were right outside Kent's building. “Come on man, watch where you’re going!”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ao3 story so have a blast and enjoy loL

Stumbling back to his apartment isn’t a new feeling, and Kent made sure to always know where he was going so he’d know how to get back. He lost Jeff, their goalie, about twenty minutes ago? He probably went home with a girl and Kent just didn’t notice. 

The sidewalk is dimly lit, but still busy with civilians. Kent had no idea what time it was, but in Vegas that never seemed to matter. Kent had flipped his snapback so it was covering his face, rather than the backside of his neck. He didn’t need drunken pictures of him all over the internet. 

Walking back to his apartment complex is actually quite depressing. He didn’t feel like bringing anyone home, not after the scare with the one guy from Seattle who tried to take a very indecent picture of Kent doing indecent things on his knees.

So yes, Kent has stumbled back to his apartment completely loaded before and has made it in one piece completely fine. This is the first time, however, he has actually run into someone; completely oblivious to his surroundings. 

The man yelped in surprise as about three boxes fell to the ground. They were right outside Kent's building. 

“Come on man, watch where you’re going!” Kent’s victim crouches down to scoop up the boxes and struggles. Kent is still too drunk to do anything other than stare. No wonder he didn’t see him, the guy is kind of small. Kent isn’t a tall guy himself, but the dude he plowed down is at least at his shoulder. He must have been covered by the boxes he was carrying. 

“Uh… Sorry.” Is all Kent manages to say before holding in a fit of laughter. The three boxes towered over the man he ran over. “Do you want help? Disclaimer: I’m kindaaaaa wasted.” 

The man huffs out a frustrated breath and shakes his head, walking toward the entrance of Kent’s apartment building. “I’m perfectly fine. You can go on your happy way.” The man has an accent… Something European? Kent didn’t fucking know, all he knew was that it caught his attention enough to pull him slightly out of his drunken state. 

“Are you following me?” The doorman opened the door for both of them, and once they were in the light of the lobby, oh man... Olive skin tone and curly brown hair, the brightest green eyes Kent has probably ever seen. Maybe he’s Greek? His shoulders were broad and his arms were definitely toned. What a sight. Although, Kent is looking at this man through his drunk goggles right now, so Kent's boy-crazy nature is probably taking over.

When the man gives him an impatient look, Kent remembers he was asked a question. “Uh… I live here.”

The man bites his lips and shakes his head, battling some sort of struggle internally. “Can you take the top box for me? I live on the first floor.”

“You’re new.” Kent states, simply because it’s true. Kent would surely remember someone looking like that

“Wow, you’re a smart one aren’t you?” The man tips his box tower forward and Kent grabs the top box before the guy drops everything again. 

The guy leads him to the end of the hall before making a sharp right and punching in his code. The man shoves open the door with his right shoulder and Kent follows him inside. 

The guy’s apartment is smaller than Kent’s, but then again Kent’s apartment is on the top floor, probably the most expensive out of all the apartments in the complex. Although, even if this guy’s apartment is clearly fit for only one person, it’s still very nice. There are empty canvases littering the living room, as well as portraits of flowers and people. They are pretty amazing, and Kent doesn’t realize he’s stopped following the good looking Greek to take a minute and just stare at them.

“Artist?” Kent questions, placing the last box on a coffee table. 

The guy glances toward the paintings and shrugs a shoulder. “Not really. It’s a hobby.”

Now that Kent can actually appreciate all of the handsome stranger without boxes in the way, he notices the casual attire. Usually the people who live here are dressed up in suits or fancy button downs. This guy just has a t-shirt and paint stained jeans. Nothing too special. They stand there in an awkward silence before the guy clears his throat. 

“Thanks for the help…” He trails off, like it’s the first time he’s realizing he doesn’t know Kent’s name. 

“Kent.” He responds, and when no further recognition lights up his features, Kent adds, “Parson. Kent Parson.”

“Bond. James Bond.” The guy mocks and his lips quirk up into a small smile. “I’m Peter, but you’re probably not even going to remember that in the morning. Thanks for the help.” 

Kent blinks, slightly surprised Peter has no idea who Kent is. That’s what got him in trouble with Seattle guy, who pretended he had no idea who Kent was and led him into a false sense of security. 

“No problem.” Kent turns and heads out the door. As soon as he gets in the elevator, he already feels his eyes starting to close. Kent Parson is a crazy drunk, but after a full night of partying, he is a very sleepy drunk.

He doesn’t even make it to his bed before collapsing on his couch.

***

Last night’s game is the talk of the weekend. Kent’s hat trick is praised as well as Jeff’s ability to act as a barrier for anything that comes his way in the net.

Kent stays in his apartment for almost all of Saturday, except when he goes out later that day for a run. On Sunday he has to go to practice, so he wakes up a little earlier to go on his run. He’s sweaty and kind of gross when he returns to his apartment building. So of course, that’s when the hot Greek guy - Patrick? - decides to cross the lobby with three large blank canvases over his shoulder. Greek guy stops in his tracks when he sees Kent, eyes calculating.

“Patrick?” Kent tries.

“Peter Artino.” The guy snorts, but instead of taking offense, Peter’s green eyes only glow with amusement. 

“Right.” Kent shoots him one of his charming smilies- because why not- and offers a hand. “You need help?” 

Peter blinks, looking a bit confused. Kent’s smirk (which he has been told countless times is pretty damn sexy, he's worked hard on perfecting it goddammit) but it doesn’t have the effect on Peter like Kent was hoping it would. Peter just looks… Surprised, maybe? Kent is terrible at reading people.

“Sure. I’ve gotta get these to my car before I’m late for work.” Peter gives Kent one large canvas as they head toward his car. Kent can’t help it— His eyes drift down south and his tracks are momentarily stopped as he focuses on a very very nice ass.

Peter leads him to a large black BMW parked in valet. Kent isn't really sure what he expected, but to be living here he has to have some kind of money. Peter just seemed... Kent still isn't sure. It's not like Peter is walking around flaunting expensive clothes. He's wearing a nicer shirt, but still wearing those tattered jeans.

"Where do you work?" Kent can't help but ask. Peter seemed to be in his early twenties at best.

Peter slides the two canvases in the backseat and Kent hands him the third one. Peter answers before he closes the car door, not turning around. "I'm an assistant to a painter in the day time." He turns around and gestures toward the car. "Hence canvas runs."

"And night time?" Kent raises an eyebrow as Peter walks up to him and pats his shoulder, not answering the question.

"Thanks again for the help."

Peter gives him one last wave from behind the wheel before driving away.

***

It's not like Peter consumes Kent's thoughts, but Kent is a curious person. It has been two days since the canvas run-in with Peter, and Kent wants to know what a night job entails. The obvious answer is a stripper when it comes to Vegas and vague job notions, but for all Kent knows this guy could be part of some Greek mafia.

Kent goes to practice and even decides to bring Peter up to Jeff, his closest friend. The entire locker room can’t help but chirp him about it, mostly because they all know about their captains sexual preferences. Kent isn’t ready to come out to the world yet, not like Jack Zimmermann did, but the people who mattered to him knew. That’s all Kent really wanted at the moment, it’s not like he’s got a Martha Stewart of a boyfriend he has to worry about hiding. 

Jeff said Peter was probably some sort of assassin, but Jeff also says that Kent should shave an ace of spades on the side of his head if they win the cup. His opinions are mostly invalid.

"Okay, but you have to shave your head." Kent responds, pulling on a shirt.

Jeff runs a hand through this sandy blonde flow. "Never. Took me two seasons to achieve this beautiful perfect mane."

Kent parks in his usual place in the parking garage and sure enough, like Peter is summoned from his earlier conversation with Jeff, he exits his black BMW with four bags of groceries. He looks to be struggling a pretty great amount, considering he nearly trips over an untied shoelace.

Kent walks over to Peter before he can hurt himself. He abandons his hockey gear on the ground by his car and rushes over to Peter to quickly grab two bags.

"Oh! Hello, Kent." Peter greets with a grateful smile. 

"Hey." Kent falls in step beside him, walking toward the elevator. They step inside in silence, but it's not so much as awkward. It's comfortable. Peter is wearing a black button down and nicer jeans today. Kent is very much appreciative of how the rolled up sleeves showcased his arms...

"You get back from another workout?" Peter teases, "It's leg day, yeah?"

Kent snorts in a way to keep in a laugh. This guy really has no idea who he is, and it felt... Kind of great actually. Although, Kent also couldn't help but feel like he was being dishonest by not saying anything.

"I got back from work, actually." Kent says casually. "I play hockey, for the Las Vegas Aces. Heard of 'em?" He adds the last part with a cocky smile.

The elevator dings and they exit into the lobby, heading toward Peter's apartment.

"Oh yeah, the hockey team!" Peter smiles, but it still doesn't seem to phase him that he's talking to their captain. "I'm more of a baketball fan, but I'll have to tune in the next time you have a game." 

Peter struggles to punch in the code to unlock the door to his apartment, so Kent reaches over and swipes another brown bag. Peter shoots him an apologetic look. “Thanks.” 

Peter leads them to the kitchen where he plops down his single bag and Kent does the same. It’s a cozy kitchen, and it definitely gets used, unlike Kent’s. He just uses it to heat up leftovers and make coffee. Occasionally Jack will sneak him a pie.

“You’re always helping me.” Peter laughs, pulling the contents out of the bag. There is a lot of vegetables and fruits in plastic bags. If this guy is a vegan, Kent is gonna scream. “Do you want something to eat? I feel kind of rude using you for your strength all the time.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Kent says honestly. He genuinely likes helping Peter out, it makes him feel like not everyone is out to get him. Peter didn’t know who he was up until a couple minutes ago. 

“I make a mean grilled cheese.” Peter smiles, already pulling out a pan and turning on his stove.

So not a vegan. 

Kent shrugs. “Sure, why not?” 

First, it’s not in his diet plan to be eating bread and cheese. Second, Kent can't stop staring at Peter’s arms. He’s not sure what this guy’s deal is, but Kent really wants to find out. 

“Where are you from?” Kent decides to ask, jumping up on the stool and resting his elbows on the marble counter. 

“Well, before I moved to Vegas I lived in New Jersey. I was born in America, but my family is from Thessaloniki, Greece. I go back home every summer.” 

So he is Greek, Kent knew it. It was only January, so at least Peter is going to be hanging around for a few more months. 

“I usually go back to New York for the summer. I bought my mom an apartment down there so I just crash there.” Kent is a twenty-seven year old man who genuinely enjoys summers chilling with his mom and her cat, but Kent doesn’t tell Peter that. 

“Are you from New York?” Peter asks, placing four pieces of bread on the very large pan. 

“Yeah." Kent says. 

“Exotic.” Peter chuckles as he pulls out three different cheeses from his refrigerator. “How long have you been playing hockey? I mean, for the Aces.” Peter places the three different slices of cheese on each piece of bread. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t in his diet plan.

No one has ever asked Kent that question before, so it takes him a few moments to answer. “I guess it’s been almost eight years? Sure doesn’t feel that long.”

Peter turns around, raising an eyebrow. “Does that mean you never went to college?” 

Kent shrugs his shoulders, not really sure what that question means for Peter, or how his answer is going to effect him. “I was drafted when I was eighteen and have been playing ever since. No time for college.” 

Peter gives him an easy smile before turning around to tend to their lunch. “You must be pretty good then, huh?” 

“I guess so.” Kent responds with a smile of his own. It’s not forced either, which is a nice change. 

“I graduated Villanova last year, but I got a degree in something I’m not too interested in, so it’s kind of useless. My father wouldn’t pay for my tuition if I went to be an art major.”

“That sucks.” Kent says, mostly because he doesn’t exactly know what else to say. Peter doesn’t hold any bitterness in his tone, in fact he sounds completely fine that his father didn’t support him. 

“It’s alright. I mean, now that I’ve graduated I can do what I want. I have to pay him back for the rent one day, but this place was the closest to the studio and quite frankly it was in a good area.”

“Yeah, you can walk to several different bars from here.” Kent smirks as Peter turns off the stove and slides a sandwich toward Kent, then Peter pulls out two water bottles from one of the brown bags. He takes a seat across from Kent and waits for Kent to take a bite before taking one himself. 

It’s extremely cheesy, but probably the most elaborate grilled cheese he’s ever had, which means it’s the best grilled cheese he’s ever had. 

“You’re quite the chef.” Kent says with approval. 

Peter takes a bite himself and gives Kent a wonderful smile. So wonderful, that Kent wants to see it again. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time, but he ignores it. No need to read into something that probably doesn’t mean anything. 

“That’s my best dish right there. Anything else I attempt to cook or bake comes from YouTube tutorials, but this is all me.” He grins.

Once they finish, Peter puts their plates in the sink and pulls out his phone, handing it to Kent. “Put in your number so I can leak it all over twitter.” Peter says jokingly. 

Kent blinks, momentarily stunned. Then he quickly remembers that it’s normal for people to ask for numbers, especially after they’ve had lunch together. Maybe he was making a friend, other than someone on his hockey team or in the NHL in general. 

Kent plugs in his number then texts himself. He hands it back to Peter, trying not to feel too nervous. This guy could still be completely faking everything just to get dirt on Kent, it’s something he’s had to deal with all of his hockey career. His number is something that has definitely been leaked before. 

“Text me when your next game is so I can see if you’re actually good or not.” Peter adds with a smile. 

“Will do.”

***

Peter: You didn’t tell me ur the captain !!!!! 

Kent glances down at his phone right after he finishes lacing up his shoes. Kent had to answer some questions for the press before cleaning up like everyone else. Him and the rest of the team were planning on going to a bar nearby to celebrate their win against the Flyers. 

Kent: I’m the captain btw 

Peter: :p

Kent slips his phone in his back pocket before it vibrates again. 

Peter: Good game, tho. They keep talking about a hat trick.. not sure what that is but... congrats?

Kent can’t help but laugh, causing Jeff and two other of his teammates, Alexander and Cam, to give him a strange look. 

“Who are you talking to?” Jeff raises an eyebrow, suspicion creeping up on his otherwise neutral expression. 

“Oh, no one.” Kent answers vaguely, shooting Jeff a wink. “Are we going or what?” Kent types out a quick “Thx!” before pocketing his phone for the night. Kent is the only one out of his four friends who knew the area remotely well, so they couldn't go anywhere without him.

***

The next game is a home game against the Providence Falconers. Although him and Jack repaired their friendship, it was still weird to be playing against him. Kent doesn't think he'll ever get used to it. 

It’s a tough game and it’s a close one. The Falconers win 2-1, but Kent only hears about it in a hospital room. During the second period, Kent suffered from an awful check. The angle in which his arm was pressed against the plexiglass was way off, causing the dislocation of his shoulder. It’s probably one of the most painful injuries Kent has ever suffered, mostly because he’s hardly ever checked. Three years ago Kent nearly broke his leg and that hurt like hell, but he was back on the ice in less than two weeks. Kent couldn’t call anyone to drive him home, because most of his teammates were still at the rink dealing with the press. Kent wanted to give Jeff a break too, especially after the brutal night he had. They instructed Kent to go home right away and rest, but there is only one person he could think of calling.

That's why Kent has no choice but to wait for Eric Bittle to come and pick him up. 

It’s not completely awkward, but it’s not like they are extremely close. Bitty is probably pissed he had to leave the game early to come drive him home, but when Kent spots Eric Bittle’s blonde hair approaching him in the waiting room, he just looked friendly. He always did, but Kent was still expecting some kind of resentment, especially since Bitty managed to make it down here despite the college senior responsibilities hanging over his head.

Kent Parson has known Bitty personally for at least two years now, but he never considered him a close friend. He considered Eric more as a mutual friend, ever since him and Jack patched things up between each other. Bitty was actually the one to push Jack into reaching out, so Kent was grateful for the tiny baker. Well, he’s not so tiny anymore. Bitty seemed to have more defined cheekbones and pretty strong arms. He’s definitely grown into his age and people just recently stopped calling him a sixteen year old in headlines.

“Oh lord,” Bitty smiles as he approaches Kent, eyes flickering to his left arm in a sling. “I hope you’re not left handed.” 

“No worries there.” Kent responds with a smile, wanting to be friendly. He is grateful Bitty agreed to drive him home so he wouldn’t have to wait in a hospital waiting room all night. 

“Jack is worried somethin' fierce, so I suggest you text him.” Bitty says as they walk to the rental car. 

Kent nods as he climbs into the passenger side. He pulls out his phone to see about a dozen texts. He responds to his mom first, telling her he’s fine and just has to rest up for a couple weeks, possibly some physical therapy. 

Then he sees a text from Peter.

Peter: Are u okay? 

Kent blinks down at the text, trying to figure out how to respond. He didn’t even think Peter was watching this game, because Kent distinctly remembers Peter telling him he has a night job, and Thursdays is a weird day to take off from work. 

Kent decides to text Jack first, since Bitty told him Jack was worried. It doesn’t exactly surprise him that Jack is worried, because Jack always makes himself worry. Although, it's still a nice feeling to know someone other than his mom cared. 

Kent and Bitty drive home in a comfortable silence, so Kent finally decides to text Peter back.

Kent: yeah I’m good. Just a dislocated shoulder... lol ouch

It’s only a minute before Peter responds. 

Peter: Yikes! How will you help me carry crap to my apartment? :( 

Kent finds himself laughing, and it catches Bitty’s attention. He doesn’t say anything, he just raises an eyebrow. 

Kent: I’ll just have to use one hand

Peter: :p

Seconds later, Peter adds, 

Peter: In all seriousness tho, text me if you need anything. I’m glad ur ok! 

“It’s a guy.” Kent responds with a wink, and Bitty shakes his head with a small smile on his face. “You don’t have to worry about me stealing your boyfriend.”

“Oh stop it, Parson.” Bitty rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. Kent must have made friends with Bittle along the line as well, he just didn’t realize it until Bitty was willing to leave his boyfriend’s hockey game to take him home. 

Bitty carries Kent’s bag without any struggle as they walk toward the elevator of the parking garage. 

“We were gonna ask you to go out tonight, y'know.” Bitty scolds him, but it holds no malice. “But I’m just glad you were okay. That looked awfully painful.” 

“It was pretty bad.” Kent cringes just a bit at the memory. They make it to Kent’s apartment door, but there’s a small brown bag in front of the door. 

“You think it’s poisonous?" Kent glances at Bitty, who bends down to pick up the paper bag. He glances inside and his brows furrow in confusion. 

“It’s grilled cheese. Still warm...” Bitty reaches inside the bag then pulls out a small sticky note for Kent to read.

Take it easy, Mr. NHL. - Peter

“So?” Bitty presses, excitement lighting up his features. 

“It’s this guy Peter. He moved in like a couple weeks ago.” Kent explains, pocketing the sticky note. Kent punches in his passcode and the two men walk through the door. 

“You go sit down, Parson.” Bitty orders, steering him toward the couch. “Jack is getting a taxi over here and bringing the pie I made.”

“You made me a pie?” Kent raises an eyebrow. “Eric Bittle, are you flirting with me?” 

“I don’t have to give it to you.” Bitty cuts him a look, and Kent chuckles. 

“I’m messing with you. Your pies are the best, Bittle." Kent says, plopping down on his couch and turning on the television. 

“I know." Bitty says, going into his kitchen. He comes back with the grilled cheese on a plate and a glass of water in his hand. 

“You didn’t have to do that—“ Kent starts, but Bitty cuts him off.

“I don’t have to do anything.” Bitty sits down on the chair next to the couch, slipping off his shoes and hugging his knees close to his chest. “I think Naked and Afraid is on.”

“Shit, really? That show’s fuckin’ hilarious.” Kent says. 

They watch Naked and Afraid, Kent finishing his sandwich, until there is a light knock on the door. Kent goes up to answer it, but Bitty holds up his hand. “It’s probably Jack.”

Sure enough, like Bitty has a fucking sixth sense for whenever Jack is near, the door opens and is followed by a "Honey!” 

Jack becomes visible as he enters the living room, a pie covered in tinfoil balanced in his right hand. Bitty takes the pie, slight irritation flashing across his features. 

“Mr. Zimmermann, use both hands please.” Bitty scolds as he disappears into the kitchen. Jack stares after him like he wants to follow, but Kent refuses to leave those two alone in his kitchen, in fear they will defile it. 

Jack looks a bit tired, but he still gives Kent a look laced with worry. “How are you feeling?” 

“Calm down, Zimms.” Kent gives him an easy smile. “I’ll be fine and probably back on the ice in three weeks. I didn’t tear anything so I just have to wait for swelling to go down.”

“Sorry about that.” Jack apologizes for something he didn’t do, but if he didn’t apologize all the fucking time that wouldn't be Jack.

"It’s not your fault, man. Stop apologizing. Seriously. I’ll kick you out.” Kent turns back to the television and switches to his apple TV. He’ll probably watch something on Netflix all night before he passes out on the couch. 

Bitty returns, balancing three plates of apple pie. Kent immediately sits up and waits in anticipation as Bitty hands him a plate and a fork. “You’re favorite; something basic.”

“I know that’s a jab, but I’m gonna ignore it.” Kent replies as he starts to shovel the pie into his mouth. Kent can’t lie about Eric Bittle’s pies; they are the best dessert that exists on the planet. Kent is actually glad Jack chose a baker, because now Kent can mooch off of him for free pastries. 

Jack sits down on the chair Bitty was at before, and Bitty decides to settle in Jack’s lap. The two are disgustingly adorable, so Kent looks away to find a movie on Netflix to watch. He chooses the first Godzilla movie, and Bitty and Jack stay for the entire thing. It’s not that they were actually paying attention to the movie, but Kent didn’t mind the company. It was quite comforting. 

“I think we’re going to head out.” Jack says quietly after a while.

Kent isn’t sure why he’s whispering until he glances over at them. Bitty fell asleep on Jack’s lap, curled up against his chest. There’s jealousy still rooted in his bones, but it’s not toward Bitty. It’s for what they have. Jack is the first out NHL player, making history for something more important than how many goals he has scored. Jack gets to be happy and content, already settling down. Kent is twenty-seven, still in the closet and still single. 

“Alright man,” Kent nods, turning off the television. “Tell Bits I say thanks again, you know, for picking me up. That was really cool of him.” 

Jack has a fond smile on his lips as he looks down at his boyfriend. He nudges Bitty’s shoulder, only stirring him a little. He sighs in defeat before placing their empty plates on Kent’s coffee table. “Make sure to actually rest, okay? I know how you feel right now, and when I tried to push myself before I was ready, I learned the hard way.” Jack easily scoops up Bitty in his arms and grabs their car keys from off the counter. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Zimms.” Kent calls out as he hears his door open. 

“I’ll start liking your instagram pictures.” Jack responds with slight annoyance. He knew what Kent meant. 

“That’s all I'm asking!” Kent yells before the door closes. He’s alone again in his apartment, and it’s never felt so empty.


	2. Chapter 2

Not being able to play begins to get to Kent. It’s physically draining. He watches his team on television and wishes nothing more than to be out there. He’s their captain and a team needs their captain. Kent knows he has to rest, otherwise it won’t get better. Kent wants his shoulder to heal as fast as possible, so he refrains from doing difficult tasks. He also hasn’t seen Peter in a week, and Kent wonders, quite bitterly, if someone else is helping him carry stuff into his apartment. It’s something stupid to get even slightly jealous over, but Kent is practically losing his mind in an apartment all by himself. 

He decides to text Peter, because why not? They’re friends and Peter is nice to look at. It’ll be a great pick me up if Peter doesn’t reject him.

Kent: You off today? 

It doesn’t take long for Peter to respond. 

Peter: Yeah, just trying to bake something from a new vlogger I found. It’s harder than it looks haha

A second later, Peter adds:

Peter: What’s up?

Kent: Do you wanna come over? 

Kent waits for a response, for reasons unknown to him he’s holding his breath. 

Peter: Sure! What apartment #

Kent: 73. Top floor. 

There’s no response after that, but five minutes later there’s a knock on his door. Kent casually walks to the door and pulls it open to see Peter smiling at him, green eyes bright and friendly. This time Peter is wearing a large hoodie and his usual paint-stained jeans. The only thing different is the rectangular glasses he’s wearing. It’s not that he looked too different, but he looked more like a college student. It occurs to Kent that he has no idea how old Peter actually is. 

“Thank god, human contact.” Kent smiles as he steps aside for Peter to enter. 

Peter looks around, slightly in awe. There’s a large window facing out toward the city, and Peter seems drawn to it immediately. “Oh wow… This is such a beautiful view.” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.” Kent comes up beside him. “The glasses new?” Kent can’t help but chirp.

“Psh. No. I’m just not wearing contacts today since I don’t have work till seven.” Peter pulls his sweater sleeves over his hands like it’s a nervous habit. “How are you feeling by the way?” Peter turns his head and frowns at the sling holding Kent’s arm.

“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, so we’ll see.” Kent shrugs his right shoulder. “I hope it’s not too bad, though.”

Peter bites his lip like he wants to say something, but ultimately decides against it and stares back out the window. “I’ll have to paint this view one day.” Peter looks out the window with a soft expression.

It’s extremely cliché, but Kent can’t help but stare at Peter’s amazed expression. It’s not like Kent can help it; It’s like he is in some sort of trance, just standing there staring at the guy who he has known for barely a month. 

“You can paint it today if you want. I’ll even help you carry stuff up here.” Kent bumps Peter’s shoulder with his good one. Peter only shrugs. “Nah, that’s okay. You wanted to hang out and I step into my own world when I’m painting. Oh!” Peter says suddenly. “I almost forgot to ask; did you like the grilled cheese? It probably got cold, but I felt awful when I saw you go down. It was the only thing I could think of to do for you.”

Kent swears Peter is blushing, but his crazy mind is probably hallucinating. As far as Kent could tell, Peter is either uninterested or totally oblivious. Kent has no clue how to deal with either. 

“Oh yeah, it was great. I have a pie slice left that my friend made, if you want it?” Kent offers, already walking to his kitchen. Peter follows, a bit hesitant but deciding to catch up to Kent.

“If it’s the last piece I don’t want it.” Peter says as Kent opens the top of the tupperware container he put it in. Kent reaches up to grab a plate to put it on, but Peter rushes over to stop him.

“No, no. I’ll do it.” Peter gently shoves Kent away with his hip before pulling down two plates. “We’ll split it.” Peter says before placing the pie in the microwave. 

“It will be the best pie you ever have in your life.” Kent promises as he takes a seat at the counter. Once the pie is finished heating up, Peter takes it out of the microwave and cuts it in half as best as he can. He gives the larger piece to Kent, who quickly switches their plates as soon as he takes a seat next to Kent.

Peter rolls his eyes before taking the first bite. Kent watches as Peter freezes and his eyes slip closed. He makes an inhuman sound that makes Kent warm all over. He’ll have to remember to thank Bitty for that later. 

“This. Is amazing.” Peter stares at him incredulously. “This is what I’m aspiring to be.” 

Kent laughs at Peter’s completely serious expression. “A baker? Don’t you want to be an artist?” 

“First, I never said I wanted to be an artist.” Peter holds up a finger, then puts up a second one. “Second, I’m DIY trash, I'm no baker. I just make a ton of useless shit that ranges from friendship bracelets to food.”

“So you’re saying you want to be good at everything.” Kent tries to hide his smile as he takes a bite of pie himself. 

Peter shakes out his shoulders. “I guess you could say that. I don’t know, I just think making things from scratch is satisfying. Do you have a hobby other than hockey, or do you just collect pucks?” 

Peter is smirking, which is a new look for Peter in Kent’s eyes. He internally groans, because damn, those lips are incredibly tempting to kiss. Before Kent has the opportunity to embarrass himself, he masks his lust with a joke.

“I actually collect porcelain cats, so, fuck you.” 

Peter laughs and goddammit, that sound is really fucking amazing. Kent doesn’t think he’s ever been turned on by a laugh before, how weird is that? Fuck. This isn’t going to end well for him, he already knows it.

They finish their pie, conversation coming easily to them. Kent’s apartment felt much less empty.

***

Peter stops by regularly, usually bringing something new he’s attempted to make, whether it be food or bath bombs. Apparently he tried to make a pie, inspired by Bitty’s apple pie, and nearly burnt down his own apartment. 

“I’ll get it next time.” Peter shrugged it off when he told Kent. Then the two of them just watched Grey's Anatomy on Netflix. 

Kent learns that Peter likes to make things in a way that’s much more than just a hobby. Kent is surprised to learn that Peter actually majored in business. It seemed so far out of his personality, so Kent isn’t surprised that he hasn’t pursued anything with it. Although, Kent still doesn't know what Peter’s night job is.

It made sense, Kent thought, that Peter loved art so much. Peter loved to create things of his own. 

Kent came to this realization just before he was cleared to get back on the ice. He was going to miss spending so much time with Peter. The two of them got so used to each other’s company, it feels almost unnatural to go days without seeing the other. 

But of course, that’s what happens, and Kent isn’t sure why it bothers him so much. His apartment feels even more lonely and empty than it ever has. 

The next time Kent sees Peter in person, Kent is back from a run and Peter is trying to balance a phone between his ear and his shoulder, carrying two animal carriers. 

Kent finds himself smiling, which is fucking odd because he's smiling for no reason. Kent walks beside Peter and takes one of the pet carriers. There is definitely an animal in there. 

Peter glances at Kent, a bit startled, but one of Peter’s amazing smiles quickly spreads across his face as Kent follows him out the lobby door and to the large black BMW.

Peter is dressed in his usual attire, those stupid jeans with the paint-stains and a t-shirt. Kent realizes that Peter owns more than one pair of ruined jeans, and he's suddenly hit with endearment.

Kent doesn’t speak, because Peter is listening to someone yell at him through the phone. 

“Listen, Jake, I can’t talk right now. I have to get to work.” Peter’s mood seems to immediately dim as he pulls away the phone and hangs up. 

Kent doesn’t ask about it either, because it’s not like Peter is that torn up about the conversation. He gives Kent a genuine look of happiness and takes the second pet carrier to slip into his backseat. 

“That artist I’m working for? He has two cats.” Peter gestures toward the van. “I had to take them to the vet for shots or whatever, but then I had to keep them in my apartment, because apparently he’s too lazy to come pick up his damn cats after a “long day of work”, in which, can I just tell you, consists of him sitting at his desk watching music parodies on YouTube! Hard day of work my ass.” Peter lets out a long breath after his rant, and Kent tries to hold in a laugh but simply can’t help it. 

“Hey, don’t laugh at me!” Peter responds with a chuckle of his own. “When I got this job, I expected to be witnessing someone creating something beautiful out of inspiration. Boy, was I wrong.”

“He can’t be that bad.” Kent offers, lightly punching his shoulder. “Those parodies are probably his inspiration.” 

Peter’s lips stay quirked up in an amused smile, and he rubs the back of his neck like he’s contemplating saying something. He doesn’t. Again. Kent notices that Peter always looks like he wants to say something important, but he always backs out at the last second. 

“You working tonight?” Kent fills in the silence. “The city is pretty cool at night, and you could paint the view like you said you wanted to.”

“Oh.” Peter’s smile turns into a frown, which was not Kent’s intention. Kent is not even sure what he said to warrant the far away look in Peter’s eyes. “I uh, I can’t tonight. I wish I could. My friend is coming over. The one I was on the phone with?” He sighs and his eyes flicker toward the car. “I have to get going.”

“No worries. I’ll probably go out tonight or something after practice.” Kent says, and he really does mean it’s fine. He’s a bit disappointed, but it’s not like Kent is expecting Peter to blow off his friend. 

Kent understands, but he isn’t sure why Peter looks so torn up about it. 

“Yeah. I’ll, uh, I’ll text you.” Peter says and slips his phone in his back pocket and hops into the driver’s seat. He glances at Kent one last time through the window, and Kent gives him a salute. 

***

Kent actually doesn’t go out with Jeff when he offers. He just doesn’t feel like it, and that... is extremely weird. Kent is acting kind of off, and even Cam, the rookie, notices it. Although, his change in behavior isn't necessarily in a bad light. Kent just isn’t used to the feeling of wanting to be around someone all the time. Or at least, to be around one specific person. That happened once in his life, and that turned out horribly. 

Kent calls Bitty, because quite frankly, Bitty is probably the only person who might have an idea of what the hell is happening to him. 

“Hello?” Bitty answers, sounding a bit surprised. 

“Hey, Bits.” Kent says, falling onto his couch and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “I need advice.”

“Advice.” Bitty’s voice sounds skeptical, but he waits for Kent to speak nonetheless.

“You know that guy I mentioned?” Kent starts, and Bitty hums an acknowledgement. “Well, for some reason, I kind of want to hang out with him. Like, all the time. And it’s strange because I’ve known him for almost two months, and we’re good friends, so I guess that makes sense? But I invited him over tonight and he refused because he was having a friend over and he just looked so upset that he couldn’t come over. Then that made me kind of upset, because I want him here and it's been a week since we last had any alone time- I need help.” Kent decides to stop himself, holding his breath and waiting for an answer.

“Kent Parson,” Bitty laughs softly on the other line. “It seems to me that you have a crush.” 

“A crush.” Kent repeats, sounding very silly. Kent doesn’t have crushes anymore, because he grew out of those his senior year of high school. “Seriously? That’s all you got for me?”

“Listen,” Bitty continues. “It’s obvious to me that you really like this guy, and if both of you are truly upset that you can’t see each other, I’d go down and talk to him. Meet his friend, but take baby steps. Don’t just barge in and kiss him or anythin'.” Bitty adds the last part with an amused tone. 

“Damn. That was my plan.” Kent replies sarcastically, earning another laugh from Bitty. “But, uh, what would I say?” He asks timidly. 

“Say you’ve come to offer entertainment or something ridiculous like always. Be your usual Kent Parson self. You know, the one who has no grasp on boundaries.” 

“Ha. Ha.” Kent is already standing up, slipping on his shoes. “Thanks, Bitty. I appreciate it.” 

“No need to thank me. Just let me know what happens.” Bitty says seriously. “Really, don’t leave me hanging.” 

“I promise.” Kent says before he and Bitty say their goodbyes. 

Bitty is right. There’s no reason for Kent to be acting any differently around this guy. He just needs to be his usual snarky and cocky self and make it clear he’s interested. If Peter doesn’t swing that way, then that’s the worst case scenario. They’d get over it and they would just be friends. 

It’s not that big of a deal. Right?

Kent steps out into the lobby and walks towards Peter’s apartment with confidence. There’s a low bass echoing down the hall where Peter’s apartment is, but Kent just walks to his door and rings the doorbell. He doubts his knocking would be heard over the low hum of the music.

The door jerks open and Peter’s irritated and extremely pissed expression disappears as soon as he notices it’s Kent. 

“Oh thank god. It’s like you somehow knew I was praying for help.” Peter sighs with relief, the loud music escaping from his apartment. The lights are dimmed and there’s loud cheering and laughing. There is definitely a party going on in there.

“I wasn’t invited?” Kent smirks, gesturing toward the chaos behind Peter. 

Peter cringes and walks out of his apartment, closing the door behind him. “My friend threw a party without my knowledge nor my consent. I’ve been doing damage control for the past two hours. They almost ruined my pastels!” He shouts angrily, shooting a glare at the closed door like it personally offended him. “I leave for work and come back to this?” He lets out a long breath, then something dawns on him. “I’m sorry, uh, why did you stop by?” 

Kent remembers what Bitty told him to do; just be his normal obnoxious self. “I came down here to say hello to you and your friend, it’s extremely boring in my apartment.” Kent pauses before offering, “You want help with damage control? Two is better than one."

Peter looks at him with a watery smile and Kent suddenly panics. He doesn’t want Peter to start crying. “You’re always helping me.”

Kent shrugs and crosses his arms. “It’s not like it’s a chore.” He winks, purposely laying on the Parson charm quite thick. He’s no longer going to be careful. 

Peter blinks and honest to god blushes, before slightly shaking his head and punching in his code. “I’m going to make you so much useless shit you won’t know what to do with it." Peter shoves open the door and is almost swallowed by an alarmingly large crowd. 

Kent reaches out and grabs his arm, tugging him back before several guys could drag him into the large mosh pit they have going on. Another noticeable detail; there are no girls present. 

Peter clutches his arm and drags him around the dancing crowd and into the kitchen. They both walk in just in time to witness a man puking in a mixing bowl. 

“Hey!” Peter snaps, startling the man. “Go to the fucking bathroom!” He yells incredulously. The man just laughs and abandons the bowl, going back into the group of dancing people. 

“Those were expensive.” Peter sighs in defeat as he picks up the bowl and holds his nose. “I better go flush this down the toilet.”

“I’ll do it.” Kent offers, taking it from him so Peter couldn’t argue. “I’ll also try and get some of these people out of here. Granted, I haven’t had to rush a large amount of people out of a place since high school, but it’s like riding a bike, yeah?" Kent gives Peter one of his easy smiles. 

Kent finds the bathroom and has no problem kicking two men making out on the sink, and dumps the puke in the toilet. It’s pretty disgusting, but Kent can’t find himself regretting stopping by. This is not how he planned on his night going, but Peter needs his help. 

Kent tosses the bowl in the bathtub before walking back into the kitchen. Peter is gone, but Kent manages to find a post-it note and scribble down that the bathroom is out of order. Kent has to kick two more couples out before managing to get the sign on the door. 

Drunk people are stupid. Kent would know, and most of the guys here are trashed. 

“You’re Kent fucking Parson!” A voice sounds behind him, sounding awed and amazed. “What the hell are you doing here?” He asks excitedly. The dude’s hair is short and dark, he’s pretty damn tall too.

“Helping out a friend.” Kent responds warily, waiting for the fan to snap a picture or something. “You should probably get going and take some of these people with you.” 

The guy scrunches up his nose, eyes glazing over with drunken confusion. “I’m crashing here for a couple days. I’m not gonna leave my own party!” He laughs like it’s funny, then stops when he sees Kent isn’t in the least bit amused.

“Get your friends out of here. Don’t be a dick.” Kent says pointedly, gesturing all around him. “From what your friend Peter told me, you caught him completely off guard.” Kent is trying to reason with a drunk man right now, which is probably not the most efficient plan. 

“If I told him about it he would have shot it down. He’s having fun!” Peter’s friend- Kent remembers him as Jake- gives Kent a sloppy smile. 

“Don’t you think that’s a sign for why you shouldn’t have thrown this stupid rager in the first place? This place is expensive and the guy works all day. Do you really think he wanted to come home to this?” Kent raises an eyebrow, choosing to be calm rather than lash out. If Kent could guilt Jake into kicking everyone out, he would count that as a win. 

The guilt trip technique didn’t seem to be working, because Jake starts to get defensive. “Whatever, man. If you’re not here for the party don’t ruin it for everyone else.”

His patience snaps. “Get your friends out of this apartment before I do it myself.” Kent begins to feel the dangerous warmth of anger. Kent now knows how Jack must have felt when Kent would pull a “surprise” party on him. 

Kent’s expression is no longer calm and friendly, and fear crosses over Jake’s face. Jake might be taller, but Kent is built from years of hockey, and Jake is your typical frat boy. 

“Dude, chill out. Fine. I’ll get them out.” Jake gives him one last look like he’s just witnessed a demon. Jake quickly disappears into the crowd. Kent starts to think Jake lied to him, but people slowly start to filter out of the apartment. 

Kent made his way back into the kitchen to find Peter staring in surprise at all the people exiting the apartment. 

“You’re welcome.” Kent comments as he leans on the counter across from Peter.

“How did you…” Peter trails off, searching Kent’s face for answers. 

“I scared your friend a little.” Kent shrugs. “Don’t worry, nothing too bad.”

Peter begins to laugh, both from exhaustion and amusement. “You’re probably the least threatening guy I’ve ever met, Kent Parson.”

“You’ve never seen me when I’m angry. It’s actually quite scary.” A smile plays on Kent’s lips, and Peter returns it with one of his own.

“What the fuck?” Jake enters the kitchen, looking extremely pissy.

Good, Kent thinks. 

“You seriously traveled all the way down here from Florida just to throw a party in my apartment?” Peter snaps.

Kent is surprised by Peter’s reaction, mostly because Peter doesn’t look angry- He looks hurt. 

Jake shrugs, eyes flickering to Kent quickly before he avoids him all together. “I wasn’t aware you were friends with a famous hockey player.”

“Seriously? That’s all you have to say?” Peter is incredulous, and his entire body is strung tight and it looks like he’s shaking a little. 

“I wanted to visit you and have some fun!” Jake says happily, still clearly buzzed. “It’s not my fault your late nights at that big shot strip club turns you into a dad.”

Kent can’t help but stare at Peter, in complete and utter surprise. Kent made jokes about Peter’s mysterious night time job, but they were just jokes. 

Peter begins to shake a little more obviously before turning his panicked expression to Kent. “Before your imagination runs wild, Parson, I am a bartender not a stripper.”

Kent doesn’t answer, but it’s only because Jake cuts him off before he can.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” Jake actually has the audacity to glare at Peter. “I wanted to spend time with you because I missed you man, but you used to be more fun. We don’t really have a lot in common, so maybe this was a wakeup call, yeah?”

Peter’s expression goes completely blank, and it’s almost like he’s purposely trying to hide something behind a mask. “What?” He asks quietly.

Jake shrugs, but his glare has disappeared and it’s only a soft, faraway look. “If this were a year ago, you would have gone crazy. Now you’re just… I don’t know. It’s not fun hanging with you anymore, and this wasn’t worth the trip if I'm being honest."

“Then you should go.” Peter says harshly. “I guess I became an adult.” 

Jake snorts before disappearing in the guest room. Kent and Peter stand there in silence. It’s extremely awkward, mostly because Kent feels this should have been a private conversation, but here he is, intruding. 

Jake exits the guest room with an overnight bag. He speeds to the door before momentarily pausing, throwing a sad look over his shoulder toward Peter. He looks like he wants to say something, but Jake only shakes his head before finally leaving.

There’s another awkward silence. Should Kent say anything? He isn’t being very helpful, but it’s also not like Kent knows how to deal with these types of situations. Well, that’s not true. He doesn’t know how to handle it properly, so he doesn’t.

“A strip club, huh?” He stupidly says, but Peter turns to him and Kent is expecting to be kicked out for such a stupid comment, but he’s not. Peter actually shows a hint of a smile and it's creeping up his face. 

“I’m a bartender, sheesh.” Peter offers, the sad lines of his face slowly begin to fade away. That is Kent’s goal right now, after all. 

“You can be a bartender literally anywhere, why at a strip club?” Kent puffs out a laugh, leaning his hip on the counter. 

“Because believe it or not, the guys there tip extremely well.” Peter strides over to stand in front of Kent, crossing his arms in defense. “Think about it— They get distracted, then wasted, which means they don’t really pay attention to how much money they are tipping.”

Kent raises an eyebrow, now completely amused. 

“The hours are also pretty flexible.” Peter adds, dropping his arms to his side. 

“Why were you so vague about it, though?” Kent suddenly asks. 

Peter laughs and it’s completely genuine. All thoughts about Jake the douche seem to be forgotten. 

“Kent, I told you about my “night" job the second day we met, and it was the first day we actually spoke when you weren’t drunk. What was I gonna say? ‘I’m a bartender.’ And then you would have asked where, and… Well.” Peter shrugs, giving Kent the dopiest smile, and all Kent really wants to lean forward and just kiss him. 

Kent doesn’t know why Peter’s words effect him so much. Maybe it’s because Peter remembers the little facts, like when they first met and when they first had a sober conversation. Kent never even thought about it. Peter could possibly have a great memory, or it could mean something else. 

Kent doesn’t even realize they have been staring at each other longer than probably considered platonic. Peter clears his throat and his eyes flicker toward the television in the living room. “Do you want to watch TV or something? I have an apple TV so I could show you some cool life hacks and DIYs on YouTube… You know, if you want. They might be lame so we don’t have to…” Peter trails off, suddenly shy. 

Peter wants to show Kent those damn tutorials he's so obsessed with. The hobby that Peter does on his free time and what he chooses to spend his free time watching and making… Occasionally making things for Kent. Things Kent makes an effort to use. Kent sure doesn’t need to use an iPhone projector when he has a television himself, but he uses it anyway because Peter made it for him. Kent sure doesn’t need a pencil jar made out of wooden clips and rubber bands, but he makes it a point to write down a grocery list on a post-it note so he can use a pen. There’s a lot of examples of how Peter is truly infiltrating Kent’s life, and Kent is suddenly overwhelmed by the epiphany.

Kent is also a goner.

“Sure, I’d love to.” Kent manages to give him a friendly smile, afraid that Peter might see something deeper. Flirting is one thing, but real feelings is another. 

****

They doze off on Peter’s couch with some girl’s voice in the distance telling them how to make a Game of Thrones themed alcoholic drink. Kent isn’t paying much attention, though. He’s more focused on the feel of Peter’s head resting on Kent’s shoulder. Peter fell asleep a while ago, and Kent finally let his head drop froward as sleep wrapped around him like a warm blanket.


	3. Chapter 3

Kent wakes up to the smell of coffee and the sound of breaking glass.

He has a new position on the couch, laying on his back with a quilt thrown over him. Kent wonders if Peter made the blanket too. 

“Shit.” Peter huffs out in frustration.

Kent sits up with a yawn and stretches out his arms. He gets up from the couch and wanders into the kitchen to find Peter on the ground scooping up large broken pieces of a mug. 

“Oh! Good morning, Kent.” Peter says brightly, looking up at him with a smile. “I was rushing around and—“ He glances at the clock behind Kent. “Oh man, I am so so late.” He mutters. 

“Hey, I can clean this up.” Kent offers, already kneeling and plucking the shards out of Peter’s hands. 

“No, come on…” Peter frowns, looking at Kent’s hands. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, and you just woke up and you’re already helping me…"

Kent snorts and rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “Peter, I get crushed by giants for a living. Go to work.” Kent makes sure to give him a reassuring smile. 

“Thank you so much.” Peter sighs, his eyes shining with appreciation as he stands up. “Ugh, I feel like such a jerk—“

“Don’t worry about it.” Kent stands up and waves the shards around in his hand. “See? Almost done. Although, as payment I expect free coffee from your lovely home.”

“Take anything you want.” Peter throws over his shoulder as he picks up a briefcase. “Well, don’t take my easels. Those were expensive.” Then Peter rushes out the door, but not without one final, “Thanks soooo much!” 

Peter seemed a bit off, but Kent didn’t press it. He has to get to work, anyway.

Kent cleans up the smaller shards with a broom before making himself some coffee. It actually is pretty late in the day already, and Kent feels himself cringing at the thought. Usually Kent catches Peter around seven thirty in the morning when Kent heads back from his morning runs. When Peter left, it was already eight. Kent really hopes he doesn’t get in too much trouble.

There is only an optional skate today, and even though Kent had every intention of going, he ultimately decides against it. His shoulder is starting to become stiff and sore, so Kent figures he should give himself a break to not make it any worse.

****

“Kent, I am actually dying right now.” Bitty practically gushes on the phone. Kent decided to call him when Kent finally left Peter’s apartment at one in the afternoon. It was now four and Kent felt extremely lazy lounging around all day, and he did promise Bitty he would call and tell him how it went. 

“It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t even know if he’s like, into dudes or whatever.” Kent mutters, and he knows how immature it sounds. But that fear is slowly becoming more stressful than Kent wanted it to.

“Hmm…” Bitty hums. “Well, do you guys just not talk about it?"

“Not really, no.” Kent mutes the Falconers vs. Tampa Bay game as he props his feet up on his coffee table. His apartment felt lonely once again… Maybe he should get an animal or something. Actually, Kent thinks, that’s impossible. He’s on the road a lot and it would be extremely hard to take care of it.

“I would like to point out that you said the party last night featured only men.” Bitty’s voice perks up, and Kent’s mood soon follows. It’s hard to feel sad or lonely when you’re talking to Eric Bittle. 

“But his friend invited everyone and Peter was extremely pissed about it.” Kent argues. 

“Right. His ‘friend’.” Kent can practically see the air quotes Bitty has around the word.

“I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Kent says honestly, because who else is he supposed to talk about this with? Jeff is a chill guy and a supportive friend, but not someone close enough to tell his deepest darkest secrets to. 

Bitty sighs dramatically on the other end. “I’m going to tell you a piece of advice that will solve all your problems.” 

Kent waits, interest piqued. 

“Tell him how you feel.” Bitty says simply. 

“That’s easier said than done.” Kent replies dryly. “And if I remember correctly, that is not at all what you did with Jack.”

“Yeah, and it was a huge mistake!” Bitty argues. “Thank the lord for Bob Zimmermann. We wouldn’t even be speaking right now if it wasn’t for him.”

“Not true,” Kent quips. “I probably would have hit on you in a bar or something.” 

“I know you say things like that to get on my nerves, and I for one will not react, Mr. Parson.” Bitty says defensively. “But seriously, you should do it.”

“You watching the Falconers game right now?” Kent changes the subject.

“No.” Bitty says sadly. “I’m procrastinating again, I have this huge essay due tomorrow.”

“Then why are you talking to me?” Kent accuses him, and he can’t help but laugh. Bittle is so ridiculous. 

“Because I wanted deets!” Bitty desperately tries to defend himself. “A thirty minute phone call isn’t going to—"

The doorbell rings and cuts off Bitty.

“I bet you twenty dollars that’s him.” Bitty says, voice giddy again.

“I ordered in, calm down.” Kent rolls his eyes even though Bitty can’t see him. He keeps the phone pressed against his ear as he grabs his wallet off the counter. When Kent opens the door, he has a sharp intake of breath. 

Peter looks very upset. Kent can tell because he’s used to Peter’s constant smile and upbeat attitude. Right now it’s obvious how Peter feels, or maybe it's just obvious to Kent.

“Can I call you back?” Kent says into the phone.

“You owe me twenty bucks. I expect a wire transfer by tomorrow morning.” 

“Bye, Bits.” Kent can’t find it in himself to smile at Bitty’s comment, not when Peter looks so upset. It’s like Peter’s attitude is bleeding right into his. 

Bitty hangs up and Kent slips his cell into his back pocket. “Are you okay?” Kent steps to the side to let Peter in. 

“Not really, um, you don’t mind if I—“

Kent stops him before he can finish that sentence. “When have I ever minded?” He challenges.

Peter doesn’t say anything else, he just heads toward the kitchen. Kent follows him and takes a seat across from him at the kitchen counter.

“I got fired.” He sighs, throwing his head in his hands. “Because I was late. One time! This guy actually tells me, ‘You obviously don’t take this job seriously enough to show up on time. I don’t believe in mistakes.’” Peter drops his voice several octaves to imitate his boss, and Kent finds himself even more endeared by this tiny Greek man.

Great. Another reason to obsess about Peter Artino. Just what he needed.

Peter peaks through the fingers covering his face to look at Kent. “I watched over his fucking cats! How is that not taking the job seriously? This is the worst week of my life.” He lets his hands fall onto counter and gives Kent a helpless look. “How am I going to find another job like that? The dude was a big deal in Las Vegas! He had connections!”

“Hey, calm down, it’ll all turn out okay.” Kent says gently, trying desperately to comfort him. Kent is terrible at this sort of stuff. “I’m sure there are plenty other artists out there who need assistants. Vegas is the place people go to follow their dreams by sleeping with famous people.”

Peter’s distressed frown curls up into a small smile, and Kent counts that as a win. “Are you suggesting I sleep with a hot shot artist?” 

Kent could probably direct the conversation down a happier path and avoid talking about what else is bothering Peter. Kent knows what else is bothering Peter, but it would be so easy to chirp each other back and forth until Kent invites him to watch the game. But Kent actually cares about this guy, and if he needs a friend right now Kent will have to suck up his feelings and be a good one.

“Are you all worked up just because of the job?” Kent raises an eyebrow, watching Peter’s expression carefully. 

Peter stiffens a bit and his eyes immediately leave Kent’s. They finally focus on something behind Kent and his eyes grow soft. 

“You still have that thing?” 

Kent furrows his eyebrows in confusion before turning around. Peter is referring to the melted humus beed bowl Peter made for him. Kent makes it a priority to clean out his wallet and keep spare change in there.

“Oh yeah, of course I do.” Kent turns back around and Peter looks like he’s about to cry. “You didn’t think I’d get rid of it, did you?” 

“I mean I wouldn’t be upset if you did.” Peter straightens his back, which tells Kent that Peter is in fact lying. 

“But you made it for me. Why would I throw it out?” Kent frowns, still confused why Peter is so riled up about this.

Peter shakes his head and gives Kent a watery smile. “It totally clashes with your kitchen!” 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Kent shrugs with an easy smirk on his face. “It’s actually really useful, I put all my--”

“The friend that was over wasn’t my friend.” Peter suddenly blurts out and his eyes are back to avoiding Kent. “He was, uh, my boyfriend from college.” He says the last part quietly. With taking a breath, Peter continues, “He left me a voicemail this morning saying he was done and I went into the shower and cried for an hour. That’s why I was late to work.” 

Kent waits, just in case Peter wanted to continue. He doesn’t, though. Peter sits there with his eyes trained down at the counter.

“Do you love him?” Kent asks carefully. It’s a selfish question for sure, but he can’t help it. 

Peter shifts uncomfortably in the stool, and he still won’t look at Kent and it’s bothering him. Why can’t Peter even look at him? As far as their relationship goes, they are close friends. Kent may feel something more than that, but it seems like Peter doesn’t know that. 

“I mean, I did.” Peter finally answers. “But that was in college, you know? After we both graduated we changed and then I moved here. I grew up and he didn’t.”

“That much is obvious.” Kent says dryly. “He broke up with you in a fucking voicemail? I say good riddance.” Kent shrugs and desperately tries to give off a carefree vibe. It’s what he does best, but it’s also why Kent can’t keep too many people around for long. 

Kent doesn’t want that with Peter, so he pauses and figures he will try being honest for once. “Hey,” Kent says more softly to get Peter’s attention. Peter forces himself to make eye contact and Kent is momentarily awed by how green his eyes look in that green t-shirt... Focus. “You’re worth more than that.” Kent says and a slow smile spreads over Peter’s face, which was Kent’s ultimate goal. His goal always seemed to be making Peter smile. 

“Thanks, Kent.” Peter says, but instead of ripping his eyes away again, they just end up staring at each other. 

“You always seem to be helping me.” Peter adds in an even softer voice. 

Kent almost doesn’t hear it.

****

His shoulder seemed to be getting worse. During suicides, Cam accidentally hit Kent’s shoulder with his own, and a sharp pain shot down his arm. Kent knew it wasn’t normal, especially because his physical therapist specifically told him, "Stop any exercise that gives you sharp or shooting pains". If he felt sore, that’s normal. This is definitely not sore. 

Kent decides to be responsible and not pull a, ‘I’m Jack Zimmermann and I skate through the pain in the name of hockey’, and goes to see the trainer after practice. 

Their main trainer that usually handles the damage control on the ice is a woman in her early forties. She has dark brown hair but it’s beginning to grey, and although she’s small she sure is tough. Kent was actually scared of her the first time he met her his rookie year.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Parson.” She sighs, pulling his arm back to see the range of motion. Kent cringes from another shooting pain. “I don’t think you should be playing tomorrow. I know we’re getting closer to the cup, but the last thing you want is to be out for the rest of the season.”

“When will it get better?” Kent asks desperately. “I was supposed to be cleared a couple weeks ago.” He argues. 

“Sometimes when we take a step forward, we take two steps back. Ever heard that one before?” She raises an eyebrow.

Kent rolls his eyes with a small smile. Susan is great company, no doubt about it. “You got anything special going on tonight?” 

Susan sighs as she begins to pull Kent’s shoulder, causing him to cringe again, but at least it’s not a sharp pain. His physical therapist does this to distract the joint, whatever the hell that means. 

“My sister in-law has some big art expo tonight, but you know me, I’m not one to understand the artistic visions of this world. She’s a beautiful painter, but I’ve been to more of these art shows than I can count and I wanted to curl up on the couch with my husband for once. Usually I’m traveling around with you guys or I’m at home games. I don’t have as much stamina as I used to, so most days I pass out as soon as I get home.”

Kent gives her a look of distress. Susan has become like his designated mother in some ways. “You're sure you can’t get out of it?”

“I tried, trust me.” She snorts. “But Mike is loyal to his little sister. He practically pays for her to pursue this art career of hers. She’s more of his daughter, if anything else.”

Kent blinks, a sudden idea skidding across his brain. “You said she’s an artist?”

“Just graduated some liberal arts school.” Susan shrugs. “It’s kind of like a "home opener" for her work, so I understand why Mike would want to go so bad.”

“Does she happen to need an assistant?” Kent asks. If this girl is relatively new, she can’t possibly have an assistant yet. Maybe she doesn’t even need one, but if her art show goes well Kent assumes it could be in her near future.

Susan pulls her hands away from Kent’s shoulder before walking over to the sink to wash her hands. She doesn’t answer until her hands are dry and she’s handing Kent three Advils. 

“You want a new career, huh? Don’t you think you’re treating this injury a bit dramatically?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Not for me.” Kent laughs, pulling on his t-shirt. “It’s for my friend.” He clarifies, watching as Susan’s lips pique into a smile. 

“A friend?” She questions.

Is Kent really that damn obvious? What happened to the years of hiding his feelings for Jack? 

“A friend.” Kent says firmly. “He got an unfair deal with the last artist he worked for. The guy was an ass. He needs a new job and I was just wondering, since she is new and all, if she might need someone.”

Susan hums while she thinks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Would you like to come to the show tonight? You can bring your friend and have him meet Elena. I’ll give her a heads up.”

Kent’s mood multiplies by a hundred, and he can’t help the huge grin on his face. Now he is probably being blatantly obvious, but Susan seems to already know, so why hide it?

“That’d be great.” Kent says. “You have my number, text me the details.” He winks as he hops off the examination table.

Susan rolls her eyes, but gives him a firm squeeze on his good shoulder. “Take it easy. No game tomorrow, and if I catch you sneaking out onto the ice I will drag you right back off.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Kent can’t stop smiling.

One step forward, two steps back. 

****

Kent knocks on Peter’s door and waits longer than usual for him to answer. 

The door jerks open and Peter looks a bit disheveled and extremely tired. He’s wearing his pajamas already. 

This might be harder than Kent originally thought, so he decides to be vague with his intentions.

“Get dressed up. I have a surprise.” Kent says, trying to plaster the most charming smile he has ever tried to pull off.

Peter simply blinks at him and doesn’t answer.

“It’ll be fun. I promise.” Kent reassures him. “You have a suit?” He pushes past Peter and into his apartment and Peter doesn’t argue.

“Kent, I’m not going anywhere tonight. I’m too busy wallowing in self pity.” Peter answers with an aggravated tone to his voice, but he still doesn’t kick Kent out. He closes his apartment door and leans against it. 

“And I am here to fix that.” Kent crosses his arms. “Throw on a suit, you won’t regret it. You have to trust me.” 

Peter raises an eyebrow, suspicion evident all over his face. “You have a game tomorrow, Kent. You shouldn’t be taking me to ‘surprises’.” 

“I actually don't.” Kent corrects him, raising a finger. “My shoulder is giving me problems—“

“Oh no, Kent—“ Peter’s face contorts in worry, but Kent quickly puts a stop to it.

“It’ll be fine, that’s why I’m not playing. But this isn’t about me. Get dressed in thirty minutes and I’ll come back down to get you.”

“Kent…” Peter trails off, his face dropping into something of disappointment. “Just let me eat ice cream and watch the bachelorette.” 

“Do you trust me?” Kent takes a different approach to convincing him to go.

“Of course I do, but it’s not about trust right now it’s about—“

“Alright, glad that’s clarified. I’ll be back in thirty.” Kent cuts him off and heads towards the door. “I have to get dressed too.”

Kent doesn’t turn back to see the look on Peter’s face. He simply leaves and keeps himself calm as he enters his apartment. Kent is in fact dying inside, if he’s honest with himself. His heart is beating so fast he can hardly breathe. He has no idea why he feels this way, or where it’s even coming from, but he tries to ignore it. He has to get dressed.

Kent throws on a black suit jacket and a tie that has small cats on it. It doesn’t take him too long to get ready, but Kent does spend time making sure he looks good. Why not? He’s going to this thing with or without Peter, although he would definitely prefer to go with Peter. 

Kent knocks on Peter’s door again and waits, heart beating fast again. What if Peter tells him to fuck off? If he were in Peter’s position, he probably would. The guy lost his boyfriend and his job, and Kent was pressuring him into doing something he probably doesn’t even want to do. This is probably a mistake, but Kent can’t help that he makes snap decisions. Act first then think later. 

The door opens and Peter is dressed in a navy blue jacket that contrasts with the green in his eyes. His slightly curly hair is damp, like he just took a shower and he smells pretty fantastic. Kent is caught staring, but he can’t really bring himself to care.

“You made the right decision.” Kent breaks the silence with a smile that’s more gleeful than cocky. 

“This better be good.” Peter purses his lips like he’s still deciding whether to go or not. 

Kent takes Peter’s arm and pulls him out of the doorway before he can have any second thoughts. “I’m never one to disappoint.”

****

Kent has never, in his life, been to an art expo. Or any type of art show. He knows there are several different artists that are present too, so at least if Elena doesn’t work out, he can charm someone else to hire Peter. Kent has no shame. He’ll do what it takes. 

Peter seems to know where they are before they enter the building. 

“Kent, what is this?” Peter asks, but his voice tells Kent he already knows.

“We are here on a mission.” Kent says, walking Peter to the door but not entering. “My friend’s sister in-law might be looking for an assistant, but she probably doesn’t even know if she needs one yet, but with your charming self I doubt she’ll hesitate to hire you.” Kent says.

“You…” Peter trails off, glancing at the door then back at Kent. “You mean this is on purpose?”

Kent furrows his brow in confusion. “What do you mean? I drove you here willingly didn’t I--” 

“Like, um, you weren’t just invited and decided to bring me along because you felt bad for me. Did you… Plan this?” Peter simply stares at him, and it’s the first time Kent can’t exactly get a read on him. 

“Yeah, I mean I don’t go to these things. But my trainer mentioned her sister in-law was an aspiring artist or something and I assumed she didn’t really have an assistant yet. Susan told me to come and introduce her to you in person.” 

“Kent…” Peter’s voice fades, but his expression is so strikingly fond that Kent nearly loses his balance. 

“Let’s go in.” Kent says quickly before any type of fear can nestle itself inside him. 

Even though Kent has never been to any sort of art show, he’s seen movies. This place looks exactly like some of the films he’s seen. With artists talking to possible buyers about their piece, people wandering around with champaign glasses, and that one guy who probably has had six already. Kent can appreciate art, but he knows it’s a bit different for Peter. Kent can tell by the way he studies the room with a look of wonder on his face. 

After two minutes of Peter standing next to Kent and studying different pieces from afar, Kent finally says something.

“You can look around, you know.” Kent nudges his shoulder with his own. “I was thinking we could talk to Elena toward the end of the night when she isn’t so busy. Also, I have no idea what she looks like. I have to find Susan first.”

Peter shakes his head and tugs on Kent’s sleeve, indicating for him to follow, and he begins to walk toward a relatively mundane painting. It’s of a man sitting at the bus stop, reading a newspaper. The environment around him is blurry, but the man and the newspaper are clear.

They do that for a while. Peter brings him to a piece and simply stares before wandering off, making sure Kent is next to him, then moving on to the next. Kent finally spots Susan standing next to a tall man with salt and pepper hair. There’s a younger girl, possibly in her early twenties, speaking to them, and her blonde hair is long and wavy. Kent compares the girl to the man, and sure enough, he spots the resemblance. 

“Eyyy Susan.” Kent smiles brightly as he approaches them. 

“Parson!” Susan detangles herself from her husband before gently hugging Kent. “Glad you convinced him to come.” She gestures over toward Peter. “Nice to meet you, I’m Susan Kane, the best doctor The Aces have.” She shakes Peter’s hand.

“Peter, the only friend Kent probably has.” Peter jokes and it manages to pull a laugh out of Susan. 

Kent smiles and shakes Susan's husband's hand. “Nice to meet you, Mike. I hear a lot about you.” 

“I hope good things.” His eyes flicker towards his wife, his smile loving. 

“I'm Elena!” The girl holds out her hand to Peter, then turns to Kent. Her mouth curls up into something like a flirtatious smile as she takes his hand for a firm shake. “So you’re the famous Kent Parson. I don’t follow hockey, but everyone seems to know your name.”

Kent shakes her hand politely before quickly pressing it flat on his thigh. “Nice to meet you.” Is all he says, giving her a smile. Kent isn’t interested, even though she is very gorgeous. It still shocks him, though. Kent hasn’t gotten laid in a while and hasn’t been looking to either. He really hopes this isn’t because of Peter. The last thing Kent wants is to hold out for a guy and end up having his heart broken. Again. 

“Are you the man who is looking to be my assistant?” She asks Peter, turning her attention towards him. 

“Yeah.” Peter answers, his voice a bit strained, but it’s not obvious. Kent only hears it because he’s completely obsessed with the guy. 

“Awesome! I’m not exactly sure what an assistant to an artist does, but I’d be happy to find out and I’m sure you can show me.” Elena says, her voice friendly and kind. She does seem like a nice person, and even if Kent is panicking about the thought of waiting on someone with no guarantee he will get anything in return. Also, the last thing he wants to do is sleep with Peter’s new boss. Kent isn’t that much of a dick, especially when it comes to Peter. 

“You mean, you’d be willing to hire me?” Peter asks.

“Of course!” Elena claps her hands together with excitement. “I also hear you’re quite the painter, and I’d love for a second opinion on things. I’m all for helping out aspiring artists, and having an assistant seems like fun. It’ll make my job a little less lonely.” She laughs.

Peter’s strained expression quickly fades as the awe floods over his eyes. “You would actually ask me for advice?” 

“What else are you going to do? Feed my cats? I’m not going to pay you for something I can do myself.” Elena says and both boys laugh. She frowns, but it’s amused. “What did I say?” 

“His old boss made him take care of his cats.” Kent offers as Peter shakes his head.

“Oh it was awful! They peed all over my rug.” Peter chuckles. 

The five of them continue to talk and Kent even throws in an offer on the painting Elena has for sale. It’s simple, just a mother and daughter eating, the daughter’s school bag leaning against the chair. The apartment that is painted looks rundown and there’s a stain on the ceiling, but Kent is hit with a wave of nostalgia. Elena takes his offer the wrong way though, her eyes lighting up and the flirtatious air around her seems to return. 

Kent’s phone starts to blow up in his pocket, so he pulls it out to check as Peter and Elena are talking and getting to know each other. It’s his team’s group chat (that only him, Jeff, Cam and Alex use) and one text from Bitty. 

Jeff: Jesus. Why can’t people just let him live his life? It’s a damn game. 

Alexander: The guy has been through enough… Like christ 

Cam: Yeah this fucking sucks 

Alexander: Hopefully he won’t be out for the rest of the season 

Jeff: that hit looked so rough I'm still cringing 

Kent frowns before going onto his NHL app to see what they could be talking about. Kent assumes it has something to do with hockey from Alex’s comments. 

Kent's heart stops. It's the first thing that’s listed. He really can’t seem to find the energy to move or breathe. There’s a close up of Jack being stretched off the ice, unconscious. There's an obvious puddle of blood in Jack's wake.

Kent’s hands are shaking and it takes him a moment before he feels pressure on his forearm. 

“Kent? Are you okay?” Peter sounds concerned, and Kent looks up to see the three other people present are also worried. 

“Excuse me.” Kent manages to get out before shrugging off Peter and heading out the door. Kent didn’t trust any sports news to tell him what is really going on, so he ignores the text message from Bitty and calls him instead. When the warm Nevada air hits him, it’s not comforting at all. He feels like he’s suffocating. 

Bitty picks up on the fourth ring, and Kent wastes no time. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.” Usually Bitty’s voice is perky and happy, and hearing it sound so wrecked is like another punch to the stomach. 

“What happened?” Kent collapses on the first step of the building and clutches his knee. 

“He…” Bitty’s voice is a bit shaky, but Kent forces himself to be patient. This has to be harder on Bitty than it is for Kent. It is just the truth. It’s not like Kent’s upset because he still loves Jack, but him and Jack have always been close, even when their relationship didn’t work out. 

Kent feels like throwing up right now. He knows what it’s like to not know. He’s been there, and apparently it’s happening all over again with the same person. Why is it always Jack?

Bitty's voice pulls him from his thoughts. “I’m not sure if you read about it, but George told me he was targeted. And I know that it’s been harder on him lately, I know that. Because it’s so obvious that homophobic assholes are coming after him more so than ever, but tonight was just… Kent it was so bad.” Bitty’s voice breaks, and Kent doesn’t notice he’s crying until there’s something warm dripping down his cheek. “He wouldn’t leave Jack alone. And then he checked Jack into that corner between the boards and the penalty box, you know where I’m talking about? The puck wasn’t even near him. He just collapsed onto the ice--” Bitty starts sniffling and Kent realizes that Bitty is crying too. 

“What’s his current state right now?” Kent asks softly.

“He’s not waking up, but they won’t let me see him.” Bitty says bitterly. “Because I'm not family, according to the nurse. How fucked up is that? The Zimmermanns are flying over here as fast as they can, but what if he wakes up and no one is there…”

“Shit.” Is all Kent manages to say, and he rubs a hand over his face. “Fuck. Bitty… I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be apologizin’.” His accent is more prominent now that his voice is all choked up. “Maybe he shouldn’t have come out in the first place. He’s a big guy, but there’s only so much one human being can handle and-- This is all my fault.”

“Hey, wait a minute, that’s a stupid thing to say.” Kent scolds him. “What was he going to do? Live his whole life in the closet and hide you? That’s not what he wants, Bittle. You know that. Stop trying to find reasons to blame yourself.”

“I just want to see him.” Bitty says quietly. “I saw it happen on television, you know? I was with the guys and we were watching, then the next thing I know Jack is down and he isn’t getting up. It was the worst feeling and I puked all over Nursey’s shoes... and it was just so horrible." Bitty starts to cry again, so Kent waits it out. He likes to think he’s somehow helping Bitty by distracting him. Kent knows once Bob Zimmermann gets there and finds out they wouldn’t let Bitty see Jack, there was going to be hell to pay. 

“Can you call Bob and have him call the hospital? Or is he already on a plane over there?” Kent says. 

“I don’t want to bother him. He’s probably worried out of his mind enough.” Bitty sighs. “Alicia said they would be boarding in a few hours.”

“So they are just sitting in an airport right now. Bitty, you won’t be bothering them. You know the Zimmermanns are going to flip out when they find out you weren’t allowed to see him. It will save a ton of yelling and probably a tabloid headline.”

“You have a point. Okay, I’ll call him.” Bitty says. 

“Let me know what happens, okay?” Kent asks, extremely timid. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Don’t forget to transfer that twenty bucks.” Bitty manages to get a choked laugh out of Kent.

They hang up, and Kent sits there and tries not to think of the worst case scenario. Kent wants to come out— Well, he wanted to. He knew Jack was having an even harder time since coming out, but he handled it. Jack is fucking amazing at what he does, but Bitty has a point. There’s only so much physical abuse a guy can take, especially big angry homophonic hockey players. Kent is smaller than Jack. If he came out, would people target him too? Will he be dragged off the ice unconscious or will someone much bigger than him end up ending his career for good?

“Kent?” a voice says tentatively behind him.

He cranes his head over his shoulder to see Peter standing by the door, his face full of concern. 

“Hi.” Kent says, but his voice is rough. It’s pretty obvious he’s been crying.

Peter quickly takes a seat next to him on the steps and wraps both his arms around Kent’s forearm. Peter rests his cheek against Kent’s good shoulder and squeezes his arm. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asks carefully. 

“A close friend of mine got seriously injured during a game… He’s uh, in the hospital.” Kent stares straight ahead, but the warmth coming from Peter is extremely comforting. 

“I wanted to come out," Kent says, “-so badly because it fucking sucks hiding all the damn time and having to worry about nosey people snapping a picture and I just, well, now I don’t think I can. And I hate it, because it’s not fair that I just want to be happy and I can’t.” Kent tries to say it all in one breath, but his voice breaks so he decides to stop and enjoy the way Peter’s arms feel around him. 

“Come out?” Peter’s voice is questioning, and for the first time the thought of Peter not even knowing Kent’s sexuality hits him. Kent has never told him, and of course Peter is not the kind of guy to just assume things about people. Peter didn’t know. 

“Yeah... I guess I never told you.” Kent folds his hands together and begins to play with his fingers. “You wouldn’t think it could get so dangerous out there, but it does. So, so bad.” Kent shakes his head. “That’s what happened to my friend… You might know him? Jack Zimmermann. He plays for the Falconers."

“Wait, are you talking about Eric Bittle’s boyfriend?” Peter asks, pulling his head away so he can look at Kent.

If the situation were any different, Kent would have had an absolute field day with this. All he can manage is a sad amused smile. “You’ve never heard of Jack Zimmermann?”

Peter snorts and shakes his head. “Well yeah, he’s the first and only openly gay player in the NHL, but I don’t really know him from hockey. He shows up in Eric Bittle’s vlogs sometimes, and I’m like, a huge Eric Bittle fan.”

“Bitty has a vlog?” Kent asks. “Hm. I never knew that.”

“Yes!” Peter practically shouts, clearly shocked that Kent has no knowledge of this. “He’s like, one of the highest paid YouTubers, my god— Wait, did you just call him Bitty?” 

“Well, yeah that’s what we all call him.” Kent can’t help the genuine smile spreading across his face. Peter looks absolutely starstruck and it has nothing to do with hockey for once in his life.

“You know him?!” Peter’s eyes are so wide. 

“I just got off the phone with him.” Kent laughs softly. “He’s actually… A close friend of mine.” Kent never thought he’d be calling Eric Bittle a close friend, but Kent also never thought he’d see someone freak out over Bitty and not Jack.

“Oh, right. Oh my god, I’m such an ass. Here I am, being all star crazed and—“

“Don’t apologize. It was a nice distraction.” Kent sighs, leaning into Peter just a bit. He misses the way Peter’s cheek felt against his shoulder. 

“Let’s go home, okay? I have some homemade ice cream in the freezer. An Eric Bittle recipe.” Peter offers with a warm smile, tugging Kent to his feet. “Sound good?”

“Yeah. Sounds super good.” 

****

Kent stays up, just in case Bitty sends him an update. He doubts Bitty will be thinking about Kent when Jack wakes up, but it still made him feel better. 

Peter and Kent went back to Kent’s place, because Peter said the view might calm him down. Peter had been right, and he even tried to stay awake with Kent. They ended up on the couch after Peter yawned for the fifth time. 

“You can go to sleep.” Kent had said, sitting on the floor and looking out his window. Looking at the city of Vegas and how the town was still alive. Peter was next to him, and the two sat in silence, because somehow, Peter knew exactly what Kent needed.

“I’m fine.” Peter said, mid-yawn. 

Peter was sitting next to him, close but not quite touching. His eyes slipped closed and he pinched forward. Kent placed a hand on his shoulder and they migrated to the couch.

So here they are, practically cuddling on Kent’s couch, the sunlight from the morning bleeding into his apartment through the window. 

Peter likes to snuggle in his sleep; it’s not the first time he’s done it with Kent. Usually Kent was asleep too, so this is the first time he’s actually conscious of the head nuzzling in the crook of his neck. This is the first time Kent lets himself indulge, just a little, and he rests the bottom of his head on top of Peter’s. He doesn’t push Peter off when he curls against Kent’s chest, and he just might have wrapped an arm around Peter’s back. Peter hums with content and Kent’s heart swells.

He can do this, just this once. It can’t happen again, because Kent will not be able to handle it. It can’t happen again, because he’s in love and it’s dangerous. He can’t afford to be in love right now. He can’t have a reason to come out. Kent needs to focus on hockey until the world doesn’t fucking suck anymore.

So just this once, he’ll pretend for another half hour that he can have this, and he’ll pretend until Peter wakes up, and Kent leaves.

Kent says quietly, barely above a whisper, “I love you.” Because he can never say it again, and he will never say it to Peter. 

His apartment, although it’s drowning in the scent of Peter, has never felt so full. But his heart has never felt this empty.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack had something called a coup contrecoup injury. Kent isn’t a doctor by any means, but after looking it up online, Kent understood that it meant Jack’s fucking brain hit the back and then the front of his skull. Jack also screwed up his vertebrae, something about a C5 injury. 

Jack wouldn’t be returning to finish the hockey season this year, and that made Kent even angrier. The Providence Falconers have a chance at the cup this year, and if they do win, Jack won’t be there to celebrate with them.

When Peter left, Kent did the rational thing any person would do; he got a flight out to Providence. 

Kent still isn't allowed to play, because Susan told him that he needs to heal his arm before he pushes it, which will then permanently damage important ranges of motion that he needs to play.

Kent of course called Bitty to let him know he landed, and Bitty sent him the address of the hospital. He hated hospitals, even before Jack’s overdose he absolutely despised them. It’s where he found out his dad passed away from leukemia. It’s where he had to sit for hours in a waiting room while Jack got his stomach pumped. It’s where Bitty is now, looking small and tired sitting on the bench right outside the hospital. 

“Hey, Bits.” Kent says softly as he approaches him. Bitty jumps up and wraps his arms around Kent, catching him a bit off guard. Kent still hugs him back, because it looks like he could need it. Kent needed one too.

“Thanks for coming.” Bitty pulls back and all he can manage is a weak smile, and Kent knows he’s trying his best to put up a front.

“Of course.” Kent reaches up and ruffles Bitty’s hair.

“Stop that.” Bitty snickers as he reaches up to flatten out the messy tuft of hair. “I should get back to Jack, but you should come too. I wanted to wait out here for you, because honestly, I needed some fresh air.”

Kent answers by following Bitty back into the hospital. People glance his way, but no one bothers to approach him. The two men walk in heavy silence before they stop at a door. 

“He's on some heavy pain medication. ” Bitty says softly. “Jack isn't really himself right now. He fades in and out. Just a warning.” Bitty pushes it open slowly, peaking his head through the crack before allowing Kent to come in.

Jack has a neck brace on which makes Kent's heart stop again. Jack’s lip is completely busted, which explained the pool of blood that was on the ice. He blinks as he focuses on them, but his eyes are glassy and have a far away look to them. 

“Hello?” Jack looks very confused.

“Hello, honey.” Bitty plasters a bright smile on his face. “Kent flew all the way down here to see you."

Jack doesn’t answer him, but his eyes follow Bitty in slight wonder as he takes a seat next to his bed. Kent stands at the foot of Jack’s bed with his arms crossed.

“You’re a mess, Zimms.” Kent tries to give him a goofy smile, he really does. However, even Kent knows it comes out sad. 

“Kenny, who… Is that guy sitting next to me?” Jack tries to whisper, but it comes out pretty loud.

Kent’s breath hitches as his eyes flicker over to Bitty. He hopes Bitty doesn’t feel as terrible as he does right now from that comment. 

Bitty shrugs, looking slightly concerned for Jack again. He doesn’t look hurt, and Kent remembers what Bitty told him right before they entered the room. This must be what Bitty meant by, “He fades in and out.”

“That’s your boyfriend, Zimms.” Kent continues to smile for Jack. He doesn’t want to upset him. 

“Really?” Jack tries to turn his head, but it doesn’t quite move with the brace. 

“Really.” Bitty responds and reaches up to pat Jack’s exposed hand. “Why is that such a shock?”

“Because, you’re like, hot and stuff.” Jack slightly slurs his words, but Kent hears him loud and clear.

Him and Bitty stifle a laugh, and Bitty says, "I was in here with you not too long ago, honey.” 

“And stuff? What kind of stuff?” Kent can’t help but ask and Bitty shoots him an irritated look.

“Don’t tease him.” Bitty scolds. 

“Hey, Bits, I’m kind of tired.” Jack mumbles, suddenly remembering who Bitty is, before his eyes slip closed. Jack turns over the hand that’s exposed and intertwines their fingers. His next words are so disoriented, Kent almost doesn’t catch them. “I love you sososomuch.” 

“I love you too,” Bitty says softly, his eyes pooling with tears. He raises their tangled hands then lowers his head and rests them against his forehead. 

“Bitty, I can leave you two alone—“

“Please don’t leave.” Bitty sniffs. “I hate when he goes back to sleep, because I don’t know if he’ll wake up. He almost slipped into a coma a few hours ago, but there's nothing anyone can really do to prevent that. The silence is just terrible when I'm in here alone and I get all nervous--" 

“Okay.” Kent says, taking a seat against the back wall of the small room. 

“How am I going to tell him that he can’t play again until October?” Bitty doesn’t pick his head up to look at Kent, and his eyes close as he takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how he’s going to take it, and he needs to focus on getting better and I know he’s not going to do that.”

“Hey, don’t start jumping to conclusions.” Kent frowns. “Just wait for him to get better here before you freak out about something you don’t need to worry about yet.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bitty squeezes Jack’s hand so hard, Jack squirms. 

****  
Kent stays with Bitty until the Zimmermanns return to take over. Kent didn’t plan on staying over night, so he says his goodbyes before taking a taxi back to the airport. All Kent wanted to do was see if Jack is doing relatively okay. Jack has Bitty and the support of his family, so it’s not like he's alone. 

The week went by in a blur and mainly consisted of Kent avoiding Peter at all costs. He hasn’t spoken to Peter since the morning he left for Providence. Kent stopped responding to Peter's texts three days after Jack’s accident. The only reason Kent knew Peter is doing well at his new job is because Susan told him. Kent was cleared and ready to play again, and Peter was back to his old schedule.

Which meant running into him after Kent’s morning jog was inevitable. Kent knew this is usually the time Peter leaves for work, but it’s like his mind wanted to trick him into forgetting. 

Peter is struggling, as always, with two big boxes, almost covering his line of vision. It reminds Kent of the first day they met. 

“Hey, stranger!” Peter greets him happily, shifting the boxes and adjusting his grip so he can see Kent better. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine.” Kent answers almost coldly, and the tone he uses even shocks himself. He needs to get away from this guy, because it fucking hurt like hell. Peter’s green eyes and those sexy paint stained jeans. “See you around.” Kent says quickly, almost panicky as he tries to bolt from Peter.

“Kent, wait,” Peter calls out to him, and Kent stupidly stops. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” And it’s the truth. If anything, it’s almost like Kent is punishing Peter. He didn't deserve this, but Kent needed this.

“Then why are you acting so weird?” Peter challenges. “I know something is up. Why don’t you come over later—“

“I’m busy. Sorry.” Kent glances over at Peter to see his face one last time. “Careful with those.” Kent says before sprinting to the elevator.

It’s the first time Kent didn't help him.

****

Hockey is normal for him, so he gets to the rink early and stays late. Usually when he's focused he doesn't have to think about much. 

Especially Peter. He especially doesn't have to think about Peter. 

It doesn't really work, though. No matter how much he practices he's still distracted. It's obvious in the way he's playing currently.

They change in the locker room and go throughout their normal routines, but today Jeff decides to approach Kent afterward.

"Hey man, are you okay?" Jeff asks, concern lining his features. 

"Yeah, why?" Kent asks. 

"You just seem kinda off, you know?" Jeff shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's my shoulder, nothing too serious." Kent lies, making sure to look straight ahead as they walk down the hall towards the exit.

“Is it… Is it a guy?” Jeff asks quietly like Kent is still hiding from the team. Kent bristles with annoyance, but doesn’t say anything about. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. He digs his fingertips into his thighs and wishes Jeff to let the subject drop.

“How about you come with us tonight?” Jeff suggests, resting a hand awkwardly on Kent’s shoulder to stop him from walking away. Kent opens his mouth to decline, but Jeff cuts him off. “If this is about a guy, he’s affecting your game—“

That is the last thing Kent wants to hear. If he can’t have Peter, then shouldn’t he be allowed hockey? “Drop it.” Kent snaps, shrugging out from under Jeff’s large hand.

“Come with us tonight, Parse.” Jeff catches up to him again. “Please. Get your mind off of him for tonight, so you know how to do it.”

It was stupid, because Kent knew what he was implying. This is fucking vegas after all. It’s notoriously known for men going out for the night and waking up the next day married to a stripper. 

Kent really isn’t in the mood. Not one bit. However, he needs to put up a front. He doesn’t want people asking him if he’s fine all the time, because lying is exhausting. He doesn’t want his team thinking that he can’t be the captain they need.

Like Kent predicted, they end up at some strip club he doesn’t care to read the name of. Most of the rookies look pretty excited, probably because most of them have never seen a boob in their life. Kent jokes around with most of the guys to put on the front that he’s completely fine. Jeff glances at him a few times before they finally enter, and Kent is thankful for the darkness.

Places like these bore Kent. Strips clubs, clubs in general, the tattoo parlors and the casinos are all the same. Kent has been on this team for eight years, and so far he’s seen it all. What does seem to interest Kent is making useless duct tape bowls with Peter. 

They take a booth somewhere, but two of the rookies are practically jumping out of their seats ready to sit by the pole. No one is up there yet, and Kent feels himself dreading when some girl does plan on taking her place on the stage. He really wants to go home and watch more of Bitty’s vlogs. 

“We’re gonna head over there.” Jeff says, jabbing his finger towards the crowd of guys by one of the poles.

“I’m getting a drink.” Kent says as an answer and slides out of the booth with Jeff and two rookies, but makes a beeline for the bar before anyone can recognize him.

He slides onto one of the empty stools and closes his eyes, running a hand through his blonde hair. “Lime Rickey please—“

“Kent?"

Kent would know that voice calling from miles away, but the universe also can’t be that cruel. Kent opens his eyes to check, and sure enough, yes, the universe can be that cruel.

This is a joke, Kent thinks. His life is one, big awful joke.

Peter was in the middle of cleaning a glass, his hand stilled inside the glass he was cleaning. His green eyes were wide and shocked. 

“Hi Peter.” Kent says in a very obvious miserable tone. It’s probably written all over his face too. 

“What are you doing here?” Peter asks, setting the glass down and walking closer to where Kent was sitting. No one else is at the bar, so it’s not like Kent can bolt as soon as Peter needs to make a drink.

“I’m here with some friends.” Kent answers casually. “They dragged me along with them."

“Oh.” Peter frowns, sounding very disappointed, like he was expecting him to say something else. 

“Can I have a Lime Rickey please? I asked a minute ago, and that’s why I came up here.” Kent repeats, gritting his teeth as he sees the hurt flash across Peter’s features. Kent was being a dick, but he thought he had to be. 

“No problem.” Peter’s jaw tenses, as he swiftly leaves to fix Kent’s drink. He can’t stop looking at Peter’s large arms and sharp jawline… 

Kent can’t be doing this right now. There’s too much at stake and Peter isn’t even worth it.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway. 

Kent throws a hundred bill down on the counter as Peter gets him his drink. Kent is already hopping off his chair to the leave the bar. 

“This is too much.” Peter states calmly, but his tone gives him away. Peter is not happy. 

“Just keep it.” Kent throws over his shoulder and desperately tries to find his way back to his booth. All the guys are gone from the booth, not to Kent's surprise.

Kent sits by himself and practically downs his drink. He needs more alcohol to get through this night, but Peter is fucking working. Here. Out of all the places in fucking Vegas this has to be the one club he happens to work at. 

Kent can’t help himself from glancing over towards the bar where Peter is suddenly more busy. Even from far away, Kent can see he clearly ruined Peter’s night. Usually he’s all smiles, but from the back of a booth across a strip club Kent always knows when something is wrong with Peter. Kent just never thought he would be the cause for the tense set of broad shoulders and glassy green eyes.

He gets up and he leaves. His teammates will figure shit out without him, they don’t need a babysitter. Kent shouldn't have even come tonight.

Once Kent walks to his apartment, completely sober and pissed off, he slams the door like a child and leans against it. Kent won’t cry, because that isn’t going to help him at all, it’ll probably make it even worse. Kent isn't pissed because he loves Peter, he’s pissed because he can’t be brave enough to actually have Peter. 

It’s really fucked up, Kent thinks. That he finds himself choosing between two things he loves. Kent knows he’s doing this to himself, so really there’s no one else to blame. He can’t even blame the dick who hurt Jack. This is all on him, which is what makes it the worst thing of all. 

He's being a coward.

Kent isn’t sure how long he’s standing there, but he stalks toward his kitchen and pulls out the leftovers from the night before. Any type of food is comfort food. 

It’s nearly two in the morning and Kent is still awake, watching the last of Bitty’s freshman year vlogs, when there’s a loud banging sounding through his apartment. Kent was sort of dozing off, so it takes a minute for him to realize it’s his own door someone is pounding on. 

He kicks himself out from under his blankets in frustration before walking towards his door. Who the hell could possibly be bothering him at this time of night? He pulls the the door open with a harsh jerk to convey the message he’s very much pissed. It takes only a second for Kent to really see who it is. 

“Kent, what the hell is going on with you?” Peter snaps, fire in his eyes and an angry set to his jaw. Peter shoves Kent aside and invites himself into Kent’s apartment before he closes the door. 

“You can’t just—“ Kent attempts to say, because it’s the only thing he can fathom of saying right now. His brain is on overload. 

“I’m not sure if it’s because you found out I was gay, which would be very hypocritical and homophobic, or if you’re just mad at me for no fucking reason. Either way? I’m sick of this.” He crosses his arms and Kent tries not to get distracted.

Kent blinks, processing what he just said. “I don’t know why you would jump to those conclusions.” 

“Seriously?” Peter deadpans, voice going flat. “Do you think I’m a moron?” 

“No.” Kent is quick to respond this time.

“Then tell me what is going on!” Peter suddenly shouts again, and when Kent doesn’t respond, he only makes Peter angrier. “Kent! Why are you being like this?” 

“It’s not- It’s not your business.” Kent says weakly. It’s the only thing he can tell him.

Peter becomes more desperate in his questioning, his voice breaking a little. “If it’s not my business then why are you treating me like this?”

Kent doesn’t answer. Again.

“Kent! You were such a jerk to me tonight.” Peter shakes his head and directs his eyes to focus somewhere else. He pulls out the hundred dollar bill from his pocket and slaps it on Kent's small coffee table. His voice grows very quiet and he says, “That fucking hurt. You know that?”

Kent clenches his jaw and looks up at the ceiling. Kent’s intention was never to hurt Peter, but at the same time that implied there was something to get hurt about. Sure, they were close friends, but if this effected Peter on a friendly level, would he even be here right now? Kent wonders, quite shockingly, if Peter actually feels the same way about him. Kent thought the problem was hockey, but what if the problem is the fear Peter just cares about him as a friend? The terror of rejection always drove Kent to do stupid things.

“I’m sorry.” Kent says eventually, but this time it’s the truth and it’s sincere. Kent runs a hand over his face and let’s out a laugh, because damn, this situation is fucked up. And it’s all his fault. He crosses the room so he’s in front of Peter, but not touching. “Do you want the truth? Or do you want me to make something up?" He asks carefully, staring at Peter's cheekbones, because Peter still refuses to look at him.

"I'm here for the truth aren't I?" Peter scoffs.

"I'm in love with you." Kent says it like it's the most simple thing in the world, and maybe it is. What Kent wants is complicated, but what he feels about it is not complex at all. 

Peter completely freezes; he doesn't even take a breath. Kent loses almost all of his confidence after the first minute passes by without Peter saying anything. Well, maybe it wasn't quite a minute and Kent was dragging it out because of nerves.

"You love me?" Peter still isn't looking at him, so with a burst of confidence, Kent reaches out and places his fingers along Peter's jaw and trails them down to his chin. 

Peter jerks his head towards Kent as his hand shoots up to grab Kent's wrist to stop him. They are finally looking at each other, and Kent decides to try again.

"I love you." Kent repeats, but he doesn't have to wait as long for a response this time. Peter's grip tightens on Kent's wrist before he surges upward and presses his lips to Kent's, softly but with purpose. It’s nothing deep, just lips moving against lips and shallow breaths. Peter releases his grip on Kent’s wrist and slides his hand up Kent’s arm, resting on his bicep. They pull apart, but barely. They aren’t looking at each other, but they are looking at the other’s lips. No words are spoken as Kent slides his hand down Peter’s back to pull him closer, and Peter doesn’t argue.

That’s when their kisses began to morph into something more. Kent sliding is tongue along Peter’s bottom lip as if asking for permission, and Peter opening without hesitation. When their tongues tangled together for the first time, it’s like a switch flipped and they became more frantic. It’s not like Kent wants to rush things, but he can’t help it, and neither could Peter. 

Peter’s hands ended up clutching Kent’s hair as if he needed to be grounded, and Kent used both of his hands to clutch Peter’s waist so he wouldn’t float away. The two men eventually have to pull apart for air, but Peter wastes no time before speaking.

“You make no sense, Kent Parson.” Peter pulls farther away just so he can focus on Kent’s eyes, his hands sliding down Kent’s head to cup his cheeks, and Kent can’t help but shiver and let his eyes slip closed. “You make no sense, but I love you anyway.” 

****

Instead of the couch, they migrated to the bed this time. They didn’t do anything too intense, other than making out and stopping before it got too heated. Kent sometimes forgets Peter is only twenty-three, and that he doesn’t have as much experience as Kent. Maybe he has little to none experience, and Kent reminds himself to ask him about it later so he doesn’t push Peter into doing something he doesn’t want to do. 

But right now, Kent will wait. They were leaning against the headboard, Peter resting against Kent’s chest, the two looking down at their intertwined hands. The television is a distant sound, but all they really need is the comfort of each other. 

“Why were you so distant with me if you love me?” Peter asks, still staring down at their hands. “Were you creeped out by it?”

“No.” Kent feels their spell shatter, and he tries to pull his hand away, but Peter clutches it tighter. 

“Then why?” Peter asks, and Kent feels his eyes focusing on his cheek because Kent refuses to look at him. 

Kent takes a few moments before answering, figuring out how to phrase it correctly. “I can’t have you, Peter. I’m not ready to come out and I don’t want you to be my dirty little secret. You deserve a lot more than what I can give you.” 

“Hey, Parson?” Peter lets go of Kent’s hand, and he immediately misses the contact. However, it’s not long before Peter swings his leg around Kent’s thigh so he’s straddling him. This instantly catches Kent’s attention, which was exactly Peter’s goal. 

“Yeah?” Kent blinks, already losing focus at the feel of Peter in his lap.

“Why don’t you let me make that decision?” Peter’s voice grows quiet as he uses his thumb to trace Kent’s bottom lip. "That sound fair?” 

“I think so. What are we talking about again?” Kent says with a small smirk, causing Peter to roll his eyes.

“Kent. I’m being serious.” Peter drops his hand and Kent frowns. He wants to kiss the worried lines of Peter’s features away, but he decides against it for now.

“I can’t ask you to be a secret, Peter.” Kent looks at Peter in earnest, because Kent needs him to understand what will have to happen between them if they are together.

“You don’t have to ask, Kent.” Peter gives him a knowing look. “We’ll just hang out like we usually do, except throw the other stuff in there.”

Kent places his hands along the outside of Peter’s thighs and glides them up to his waist. “What kind of stuff?”

“You’re teasing me.” Peter smiles like he can hardly contain himself. “You know what I mean.” 

“It wouldn’t be forever, you know.” Kent insists, and he knows he’s being selfish but dammit, he really wants this. And even though he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, he’ll make sure he does. “It’s just… After the thing with Jack—“

“The last thing I want to see is you getting hurt.” Peter cuts him off, leaning forward and lazily dropping his arms around Kent’s shoulders. “I’ll wait. I have time. I mean, you’re kind of old but—“ 

Kent cuts him off with a kiss, and Peter melts into him without hesitation. It feels so comfortable and nice to kiss so sloppily- until Peter moves forward and applies pressure to a very sensitive area. Kent moans both from the sensation and loss of contact as he pulls away. “Oh yeah, now onto our next subject of business.” 

Peter raises an eyebrow skeptically, but he waits. 

“I have no idea what you’ve done.” Kent says blatantly. “I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been around. I mean look at me, I’m gorgeous, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something just because I'm dropping to my knees.”

Peter shudders at the thought before blowing out a breath of air, “Oh jeez. I’m trying to focus but then you say stuff like that.”

“In all seriousness, though…” Kent trails off, waiting. 

“Kent, you’re treating me like I’m the virgin Mary.” Peter shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips. “Honestly just keep me updated if you’re about to do something insane, but you’re pretty basic so I think I can handle it."

“Shut up.” Kent laughs. “I’m not the one constantly making DIYs and watching baking tutorials on YouTube. I’m pretty sure you’re the most basic out of the two of us.”

Peter doesn’t answer, he just rolls off of Kent and settles down in the bed. “It’s almost morning. I’m going to sleep.” He announces, reaching out his arms and making a grabbing motion with his hands. “Come over here and snuggle with me. I have to get up early and meet Elena for coffee.” 

Kent feels his chest fill up with warmth and is quick to slide into Peter’s arms. Kent rests his head on Peter’s chest and curls up against him while Peter wraps his arms around Kent’s middle. Kent breathes in the scent of Peter before saying, “You’re meeting your boss for coffee?” 

“It’s better than cleaning up her cat’s shit.” Peter laughs softly and Kent feels it vibrate through his chest. “I’m also trying to get on her good side, because if she looks at you with those "fuck me" eyes again I’m going to have a conniption. I’ll need to remind her of the good times we had together so she doesn’t fire me.”

“It’s okay, if you’re fired I’m pretty rich so you wouldn’t have to worry.” Kent mumbles against Peter’s chest, already drifting off to sleep. 

“What a thing to say, Kent.” Peter lightly flicks his ear. “If I wanted a sugar daddy I’d go for George Clooney. I heard he spends his summers here.” 

“I’m way hotter than George Clooney.” Kent sighs as his eyes grow heavy again, and the last thing he remembers before falling asleep is Peter’s laugh. 

****

“KENT.” Bitty shouts over the phone, and Kent has to pull it away from ear. “I almost pissed myself, oh Lord. Oh wow, I’m so happy for you!” 

After Peter left to go meet Elena for coffee, Kent decided to skip his run today before practice. Kent didn’t realize that the time he’s at practice Peter will already be home, and then when Kent gets back from practice they will only have two hours together. Roadies are going to be even harder. 

So Kent called Bitty for some advice on how to deal with a closeted, long distance relationship. The idea made Kent sick to his stomach, because he doesn’t want to hide Peter. In fact, he wants everyone to know. He wants to brag to people about how his boyfriend is an artist, and a pretty damn talented one. 

“I feel like shit, Bitty.” Kent groans into the phone, glaring at his half-full coffee mug. “At the same time I feel pretty fantastic, but also I feel like shit. I need help.”

Bitty sighs into the phone. “Please don’t feel that way. Kent, he made a decision. A very important one. You must mean a lot to Peter for him to make a sacrifice like that. Focus on that instead, okay? Don’t let anyone pressure you into coming out.” Bitty says sternly. “I’m serious Kent. I sensed a snarky comment coming from you thousands of miles away and I'm trying to be stern."

“I want to come out.” Kent clarifies. “But I also don’t want men that are a foot taller than me breaking my leg.” Or snapping my neck, Kent thinks to himself. Kent knows Jack was only cleared to go home yesterday, and even Kent knows not to remind Bitty of what's happening. Kent is pretty sure Bitty is using Kent's love life as a distraction, but Kent is perfectly okay with that. He has actually grown fond of Bitty, and as his friend, Kent feels like he needs to do something to help him out. 

“How is Jack doing?” Kent asks, selfishly wanting to know. 

Bitty sighs into the phone. “He’s as fine as he can be right now. I have to go to classes in the day, so I can’t stay home and look after him. Oh Lord do I wish I could, but i’ve already missed four days and I'm already falling way behind. I’m having one of the players from the Falconers' farmer team look after him until I get home. Blake and Jack really hit it off during the training camps, so he doesn’t really mind. I also had to find someone Jack trusted, you know?”

“Yeah.” Kent says softly. “Well, I’m gonna let you get back to Zimms. Keep me updated.”

“Same here.” Bitty replies before hanging up.

It’s only a few hours later until there’s a knock on Kent’s apartment door. He feels his heart spasm in his chest as he hurries to jerk open the door. Peter gives him a lazy smile before Kent steps aside to let him in.

“I have to go in a couple hours.” Kent says mournfully, closing the door behind him. “I have a game tonight.” 

Peter gives him a smirk before pulling a ticket out of his back pocket. “Which is why I’m going. I convinced Lacey, my manager, to let me off tonight.”

Kent just stares at him, then glances at the ticket. Buying a ticket this late must have been expensive. They were playing the Boston Bruins tonight, and Kent is pretty sure the stadium was sold out. Peter worked two jobs, so Kent doubts he has that kind of money to spend. Especially when Kent can’t even take him out afterward, because they would get caught—

Peter misread his horrified expression and dropped his head, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry, Kent. If you don’t want me to go that’s fine. I just thought it would be fun to see one of your games in person, I probably overstepped boundaries I mean we aren’t even dating—“

“Wait, hold on.” Kent says quickly, using the cut off of silence to walk over to Peter. He places both his palms on Peter’s arms before sliding them up to squeeze his biceps (which were very impressive for an artist/bartender). 

"First of all, I hope we’re fucking dating because that was the impression I was under.” Kent waits for a reaction, Peter looks up at him with a growing smile. “Second, I would love for you to come to my game. However, next time can you tell me? I can get you tickets for free, and probably better seats too.” 

“You don’t need to do that.” Peter leans into him, studying Kent’s face. “Are you serious about the dating thing? Because you’re… You. And I’m me. You’re this sexy hockey God and I’m a living breathing trash bag.”

Kent’s snorts out a laugh before pulling Peter against him, his hands still on Peter’s biceps. Kent leans his head forward so their lips are inches apart. “Then you're a pretty hot trash bag. The hottest one I’ve ever seen. In fact? I don’t think you remind me of a trash bag at all, because I don’t think trash smells this nice,” Kent drags the tip of his nose along Peter’s cheek as he laughs at Kent's stupid line, before resting his lips on Peter’s forehead. 

"You are basic, Parson. I was right."

Kent trails his palms over Peter’s shoulders and drags them down the small of his back. Peter sighs into the touch and with a bold move, Kent uses both hands to cup his ass. Peter’s grunt is cut off by a moan when Kent squeezes. 

“I also don’t think trash bags feel this amazing, either.” Kent whispers in his ear before nipping at Peter’s earlobe. 

“Okay okay, I get it. I'm not a trash bag." Kent can feel Peter smile. "Kent Parson, you have a game in a couple hours. Stop teasing me.” Peter releases a breathy laugh against Kent’s neck, where Peter’s head is safety tucked into the crook. 

“I’m not teasing you.” Kent clarifies, all the amusement in his tone gone, and only arousal from a thought that just popped up in his head. “I want to blow you, though.”

Peter’s hand shoots up to clutch Kent’s shirt, his fist tightens around the fabric. “Kent.” He breathes, nuzzling his head even deeper into Kent’s neck. 

“I'm serious. I’ve thought about it for a while, you know.” Kent’s voice has now turned husky, and the change seems to get Peter even more riled up. 

“Who even are you?” Peter laughs weakly into his neck. 

“I’m Kent Fucking Parson.”

“I should buy Aces tickets more often. Maybe if I bought them a week ago we wouldn’t have lost so much time.” Peter pulls his head back and reaches up to cup Kent’s face in his hands. “But as much as I would love that, I kind of wanted to hang out with you?” Peter is now blushing, but he still holds eye contact. “I know I sound lame, but you are going to be going on roadies soon and I’ll hardly get to see you. Besides, I have plans for tonight.” Peter winks.

“Hey, don’t ever feel bad for not wanting to do something.” Kent gives him a lazy smile before releasing his butt and slipping Peter’s right hand into his. “We have tonight after the game, and I’m always keyed up after a game.” 

“Oh yeah?” Peter’s eyes grow dark as Kent pulls him to the couch by his hand. 

“Yup. Especially after a win.”

“Then you’ll just have to win for me tonight, hm?”

Kent pulls Peter onto the couch with him, Peter curling against his side like it’s natural. “That's the plan.” Kent replies.


	5. Chapter 5

Although Kent can't see Peter, he knows he's out there. The thought alone fills him with a warm feeling, one that is hard to describe, but still feels great.

He skate onto the ice and attempts to search the crowd, but of course, he doesn't spot Peter. The fact that Peter is here just to watch him play, just to support him, turns up his energy several notches. Kent has to win tonight, there's no other option. Peter's first live game of Kent will not end in a loss.

Needless to say, Kent is fucking amazing. He accomplishes his second hat trick of the season, and can't help but feel real smug about it too. His ice time was insane today, earning himself over 28 minutes. Kent wants Peter to know he's dating one of the best hockey players around. 

The press is annoying as usual, but even more irritable tonight. All Kent wants to do is go home and see Peter. His boyfriend. Because Peter is his fucking boyfriend now.

As soon as Kent is showered and dressed, he pulls out his phone to see if he's gotten anything from Peter. He finds that Peter kindly documented his whole experience tonight.

Peter: I found you! You look small from up here but I'd know that ass from miles away ;)

Peter: I'm getting shit from some Bruins fans up here. Of course my ticket ended up surrounded by a ton of Boston fans.

Peter: YOU SCORED A GOAL. That was fucking hot jeez

Peter: update: the Bruins fan sitting behind me just called you some nasty things and I almost turned around and threw my hot chocolate on him 

Peter: I just saw you on the big screen and you look sweaty and intense. I'm super turned on rn

Peter: UR SO GOOD WOW 

Peter: update: annoying Bruins fan just called you a midget on skates. Not only is that offensive it's unnecessary. I'm about to fight 

Peter: is this like halftime? Is someone going to come out and preform?

Peter: just asked the Bruins fan if he heard Niki Minaj was performing tonight during halftime lol 

Peter: I think I broke him he looks so confused 

Peter: ur back out again! You look really good in black !!!!

Peter: I just ordered ur jersey online and it's going to look GREAT on me. 

Peter: okay what's a hat trick and why are people throwing hats onto the ice? Aren't those hats expensive? I mean I would know I'm wearing one rn

Peter: I have so many questions 

Peter: Update: The obnoxious Bruins guy goes: the Aces are fucking cheaters  
Me: did you just come here to talk to yourself bc no one is really listening 

Peter: he isn't responding lol ... but also isn't this Vegas? Like go back home to Boston man 

Peter: okay it's the end of the second period and I'm still waiting for Niki and I think the super Bruins fan is too 

Peter: he called u a nasty word and I "accidentally" split my hot chocolate on his jersey he's so pissed 

Peter: lol I blasted out of there before he punched me to get a drink and some drunk guy started yelling at me about how the Bruins were better and he kept throwing around stats and terms I didn't understand 

Peter: jokes on him I have no fucking clue what he's even talking about. Like he's dropping names I don't even know. 

Peter: I just cut him off by saying, "Jack Zimmermann" out of the blue and he looked confused. I guess it has nothing to do with what he's talking about 

Peter: the dude is now going off on a rant about how the dude who hit Jack should be in jail rn

Peter: OABDKCOSHAVA

Peter: DRUNK DUDE IS SO AWESOME OMG HES GOING OFF ON HOW AMAZING JACK ZIMMERMANN IS

Peter:  
Drunk guy: I mean listen I respect the fuck out of that guy. He's the first openly gay NHL player like the dude is such a fucking icon for kids and basically everyone  
Me: I know it's so wonderful! He's making such a difference on and off the ice (read that line in an article)  
Drunk guy: my twin brother is gay and he was so afraid all his life it fucking sucks 

Peter: Drunk guy got stood up by his girlfriend so he has an extra seat 

Peter: DRUNK GUY INVITED ME TO GO SIT WITH HIM

Peter: I can see you better!!! Start of the third period and I'm so ready. Kick their asses babe

Peter: Drunk guy is narrating the game for me ugh bless him I actually know what's going on now 

Peter: his name is Bill 

Peter: UR ASS IS !!!!!

Peter: U WON OMFG IM SCREAMMMMING!!!!! 

 

Kent smiles so hard it hurts his cheeks. He gets go home to that. Kent replies:

Kent: ur going to be screaming some more tonight 

Peter: u better get here fast 

***

Kent practically kicks open the door. He drops his bag in front of the entrance before barreling down the hall into the living room. Peter is sitting on the couch, feet crossed beneath him. He’s bundled up in his large Villanova sweatshirt listening to…

“Is this Elvis Presley?” Kent asks with a small smile, plopping down next to him on the couch. Peter grins and leans against Kent’s shoulder, and Kent puts an easy arm around Peter. 

“Of course.” Peter nuzzles his head under the crook of Kent’s neck. “He’s my favorite.”

“Can you sing like him?” Kent laughs while trailing his fingers up and down Peter’s arm. 

“I sure can.” Peter says smugly, and Kent’s breath catches as he feels Peter begin to suck at his neck. 

“You should sing for me. I did win and all.” Kent’s eyes slip closed and he tilts his head back so Peter can have easier access. 

Peter pulls back and huffs out a frustrated sigh. “You want me to sing to you or suck your dick?” 

“Whatever you want to do.” Kent is surprised he even formed a coherent sentence. 

Peter pushes himself away from Kent to straddle his lap. He purposely applies pressure to Kent’s growing hardness and wraps his tan arms around Kent’s neck. “I’ll do both.” Peter leans forward to whisper in his ear. 

“You are a multitasker.” Kent chirps, but shuts up as soon as Peter’s warm voice whispers in his ear. Well, not whispering just humming Elvis's "Love Me Tender" and Kent wonders what Peter sounds like when he’s belting Elvis Presley. 

Peter’s humming is cut off as he struggles to get his sweatshirt off. Kent hears an, “Oof,” followed by a, “Help.” as it gets stuck over his head.

“Smooth.” Kent quips as he tugs Peter’s hoodie over his head. Peter’s hair is disheveled from the sweater and his smile is giddy.

“Your turn.” Peter grins wider, and Kent suddenly realizes why Peter looks like a five year old in a candy shop. 

Kent grins and swiftly pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it behind the couch. Kent can’t help but feel extremely conceited as Peter’s eyes grow extremely dark as he rakes them over Kent’s bare chest. Kent is a pro-athlete, so yes, he will take pride in his body. He worked hard enough for it.

“Jeez.” Peter slides his palms up Kent’s chest. “I knew your arms were nice but-“ Peter shakes his head and rests his lips inches from Kent. "Jeez.” Peter repeats. 

“If we are taking turns here,” Kent tugs at Peter’s washed out t-shirt. “I believe it’s yours.”

Peter pulls off his t-shirt with more ease than he did with his sweatshirt and drops it behind him. He has a slight blush to his cheeks that Kent finds extremely adorable. Kent doesn’t understand how someone can be cute and fucking hot as hell at the same time. Maybe it was just a Peter Artino thing. His stomach is defined, which indicates he does some exercise of his own. Kent finds that interesting, since Peter never seemed like the gym kind of person or like someone who had the time. 

Peter must notice Kent’s curiosity, because he says, “In Greece I have to help my father haul pounds of fish across the docs. It’s smelly and gross, but at least it’s a workout.” 

“Do you do it shirtless?” Kent drags both of his palms up Peter’s bare back, causing a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“Sometimes.” Peter smirks, knowing the answer Kent really wanted. 

The two men finally kiss, and for Kent it feels like a breath of fresh air. Peter clutches Kent's hair as he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into Peter’s mouth. Peter moans and it vibrates through Kent, causing him to dig his fingertips into Peter’s back. Their kissing soon becomes sloppy as Peter grinds down into Kent’s lap. Their teeth hit and they have to pull away to pant. 

Peter rests his forehead against Kent’s while he presses his palm to Kent’s lower stomach. Peter doesn’t break eye contact as he hands trails further down Kent’s abdomen and eventually makes it underneath the waist band of his sweats.

His hand brushes over the very obvious bulge in Kent's underwear before Peter's hand squeezes. Kent can't help but throw his head back as an insane amount of pleasure ripples through him.

"Is this okay?" Peter asks in a strained voice. Kent's reaction must be effecting him. 

"More than okay." Kent only manages to grunt. Kent feels his heart beat out of his chest as Peter pulls Kent's sweats and underwear down at once, and Kent has to lift his hips so the clothing pools at his ankles.

Peter fishes through his discarded sweatshirt for lube, and just as Kent grows extremely impatient, Peter makes a triumphant sound. 

Kent's whimper as Peter wraps his hand around Kent's dick is muffled when Peter presses their lips together again. It's been a while for Kent, so he isn't sure how long this will last. Peter's hand is a lot different than his own.

As Peter picks up the pace, Kent looses any motor function in his body and slumps forward. He rests his forehead on Peter's collarbone and makes little cries when Peter twists his wrist.

"Kent." Peter pants. "You're so gorgeous oh my god."

"Wait, wait." It takes every ounce of willpower he possesses to stop Peter, but he stops because he wants Peter to feel good too. Kent keeps his forehead on Peter's collarbone and unbuckles Peter's belt hastily, and his hands shake as he tries to pull down Peter's pants. Peter has to climb off Kent for a moment to slip out of his jeans and shuck off his underwear. Kent stares, because he fucking can, and Peter climbs back onto Kent's lap. 

Kent places his palm around Peter as he bites his collarbone. Peter sighs and falls into Kent, who starts sucking at the exposed skin presented to him. 

Kent thinks with a satisfied smirk, that's going to leave a bruise.

It's hardly three minutes of them jerking each other off before Kent starts rutting his hips to meet Peter’s hand. “I’m not- I can’t- Peter, I’m not gonna last long.” 

“Then don’t.” Peter reaches his free hand up to Kent’s hair and tugs his head away from his current spot. “I want to see you.” 

And that’s it. Kent would feel pretty embarrassed for blowing his load that quickly, but right now he’s blissed out and can’t find the energy to even think or care about it. That was fucking intense.

Kent doesn’t even realize he’s stopped with Peter until Peter whines, “Kent.” 

Kent squeezes a bit tighter this time and focuses everything he can manage on Peter. It’s not a lot, because he’s still pretty out of it, but it’s enough. Peter mumbles broken words like, “Yeah- shit- fuck- s’good.” which let Kent know he’s close. 

Kent expected Peter to be pretty loud when it came to sex, just because of his flamboyant personality. Kent knew he himself was loud, and he probably did his fair share of yelling tonight without realizing it. However, Peter was quiet now. He came with a soft moan and shaking limbs before collapsing against Kent like a rag doll. 

They cling to each other for a long moment, neither of them saying anything. They just breathe with each other. Finally, after who knows how long, Peter sits up and looks down at Kent with hooded eyelids. “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?” 

“Only if you sing to me in the shower.” Kent smirks. 

“Deal.” 

They shower together in a daze while Peter belts Hound Dog, and Kent can’t stop laughing. It’s almost overwhelming how happy he is. 

The two men stumble into bed damp from the shower, and the last thing Kent hears before drifting off to sleep is Peter singing softly in his ear.

***

Waking up next to a warm body is different, but it’s the good kind of different. It’s the kind of different Kent always craved, but never thought he could have. 

Peter is still passed out, his breathing even and his face soft. They were facing each other on their stomachs, Kent’s arm thrown over Peter’s lower back. 

Then Kent remembers the last time they fell asleep together, and he looks at the clock in panic. It’s nearly ten thirty, which can’t be good. It’s not good for either of them, since Kent needs to get to the rink. 

“Peter.” Kent reaches up and nudges him, and Peter barely stirs. “Peter, babe, wake up. Do you have work today?” Kent is hoping the word “work" will catch his attention, but Peter slowly slips his eyes open.

“I’m off on Saturdays except when I have to work at the club.” He mumbles, closing his eyes again. “Go back to sleep.”

“I have to be at the rink in a half hour.” Kent says bitterly. “I’ll catch you when I get home.” 

“‘Kay. We should go get lunch.” Peter mumbles into the pillow. “Or dinner... Whenever you get back we should get food.” 

“Okay.” Kent leans down and quickly kisses the back of his head. “Text me.” 

“Maybe. I’ll consider it.” Peter jokes with a sleepy smile, his voice gradually going softer before there’s a sigh of content. “I just saw your ass and now I’m happy.”

Kent laughs as he quickly searches through his drawers for clothing. It’s never felt this painful to get dressed and head to the rink. For the first time in his life, he actually doesn’t want to go over strategy and talk about fucking hockey. He loves what he does, but sometimes, Kent needs a break. Kent decided to run training camps this summer for younger players, and even though he enjoyed it, he never stopped with the hockey. The last time he’s had real time off, excluding the injury, was a year ago. 

Kent still plays at his usual best, but he’s counting down the seconds before he gets to leave. Practice isn’t as brutal today since they had a game yesterday, but it wears him out nonetheless.

“How’s the shoulder?” Jeff asks once Kent is dressed and ready to bolt. 

“Oh. It’s great.” Kent answers quickly, and a smirk falls on Jeff’s face as he shakes his head. 

“You should check the mirror before coming to practice next time.” Jeff taps a spot on the right side of his neck. Kent is confused before he realizes what Jeff is referring to. 

Kent doesn’t get embarrassed. In fact, he can’t keep the smug expression off his face. “I am fully aware, Jeff. See you later.” Kent calls over his shoulder before exiting the locker room. 

When Kent gets back to his apartment, Peter is still there, but he’s wearing new clothes and concentrating on making something new. Kent stands in the doorway feeling like a creep, but he can’t help but watch him. There is something endearing about the way Peter reaches up to pause the video he’s watching so he can complete the step, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth as he pours all his attention into what he’s making.

No doubt, Kent is in love and it feels fucking great.

***

Peter progressively gets louder during sex over the next couple days. Kent discovers Peter is particularly vocal when Kent eats him out, and Kent finds that Peter is pretty talented with blowjobs. 

Peter shows up at Kent’s apartment wearing his jersey, PARSON in large letters across the back. Kent even signs it for him, and Peter gets pissed because, “You ruined it! Why would I want your autograph when I get to see your dick every night?” 

Kent argued that anyone would kill to have a signed Kent Parson jersey, but Peter expands off his previous point. “Yeah? Well none of those losers are dating Kent Parson, are they?"

Things are pretty fantastic over the next couple weeks. Especially when Kent met Peter’s friend Bill from the game when Kent got the hatty.

Kent has keys to Peter’s apartment, and strolled in one day after practice to see Bill sitting at the counter. Bill was younger than Kent expected, but was also probably closer to Kent's age than Peter’s. Bill’s hair was a dark brown and he was a pretty large guy. If Kent had been in Peter’s position, and some Bruins fan that looked like that started yelling at him, Kent would be pretty scared. 

Bill had spit out whatever the hell was in that water bottle and simply stared.

“Did I fall asleep?” 

“Who are you?” Kent asked, confused. He didn’t know who Bill even was at the time. 

“Uh…” Bill trailed off, blinking several times. “My name is Bill Carrington.” 

“Where’s Peter?” Kent asked, and he knew he sounded rude, but this was the same guy who picked on Peter the first time they met. 

“Painting in his room I think? He told me to leave him alone—“ Bill is cut off by a nod by Kent. 

“Thanks.” Kent said and found that Peter was in fact drawing on a large piece of paper with his pastels. 

“I’m almost done.” Peter said before Kent even closed the door. “Go talk to Bill and I’ll be out in a sec.” 

So Kent had to socialize with a star struck Bill for twenty minutes, but even Kent had to admit, the guy was actually really chill. He moved from Boston to Las Vegas because of a job transfer. Bill didn’t have a lot of friends yet, so he tells Kent that he’s glad he met Peter.

When Peter joined Kent and Bill, he cut each of them a slice of cake Peter made that followed one of Bitty’s recipes. 

“So, how do you know Peter?” Bill asked just as he took a bite of cake.

“Oh, I’m his boyfriend.” Kent said casually and Bill started choking on his cake.

“You shouldn’t joke about that.” Bill strangles to get out as he continued to cough up a lung.

“I’m not joking.” Kent jumped in, his voice tight and serious, before Peter could even react. 

“KENT!” Peter shouted in panic and anger, rapidly glancing between Kent and Bill. 

“What?” Kent shrugs. “If he’s really your friend he won’t tell. Even if he does, he has no proof. An allegation is much different than a confession.”

“You’re dating Kent Parson!” Bill managed to choke out. “Holy fuck, that’s awesome. Jesus, you’re so cool. I am sooooo glad I screamed at you during that game."

***

“How’s Jack?” Kent asks, balancing a phone between his ear and neck as he and Peter make some kind of dog shaped cupcakes. Kent didn’t really know at this point, he just listened to the directions Peter was giving him.

There’s a long pause before Bitty answers, which catches Kent a bit off guard. “I mean, physically he’s getting so much better. He still has the brace, but he looses it in a couple weeks…”

“But?” Kent prattles him on.

“But… I don’t know, Kent. He’s acting so weird.” Bitty’s voice is laced with worry and fear. The fear part especially catches Kent off guard. What does Bitty have to be afraid of?

“Weird how?”

“He’s avoiding me.” Bitty huffs out in a frustrated breath. “Whenever we’re alone together he gets all jumpy and nervous. Then, when I try and Skype him, he hardly ever answers. He doesn’t even give me a reason why he doesn’t pick up!” 

Kent takes a moment to process Bitty’s information. That is extremely strange, even for Jack, who is famous for projecting emotions in the wrong way.

Peter takes the mixing bowl out of Kent’s arms and nods his head towards the living room. “Sounds serious." Peter says. "I’ll be fine in here.” Peter even turns off his Elvis Presley playlist so Kent can concentrate on Bitty.

Kent quickly kisses his temple before adjusting the phone against his ear and plopping down on Peter’s old couch. 

“Do you think it’s because he’s still disoriented?” Kent carefully asks. “Does he sometimes forget who you are? Maybe that’s why and you should get him checked out again."

“That’s what I thought at first, and I was so worried you know?” Bitty grunts, "I asked him about it, and he said he hasn’t forgotten who I was since before he left the hospital. Jack wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.”

“Then what do you think is going on?” Kent asks. 

“I think…” Bitty’s voice catches in his throat like he’s trying not to cry. Oh no. “I think maybe he blames me for what happened. He can’t play and he’s always watching the games and— I’m just a constant reminder of why that happened in the first place.”

“That’s not fair to assume, Bitty. Come on. You know that.” Kent scolds him. “You should talk to him about his behavior and see what he says.” 

“Okay, that might not be it, but he is definitely hiding something from me. Jack is a terrible liar, so he can't keep this up forever."

“You’re a great meddler.” Kent chirps. “Be the snoopy detective I know you are and find out what’s up.” 

Bitty snorts, but his tone seems to have become lighter. “Whatever. Say hi to Peter for me.”

“That will probably give him an aneurysm.” Kent says. “I’ll blame you if you end up killing my boyfriend.”

“I better meet this boy.” Kent can hear the smile in Bitty’s voice. “It will be nice to have a fan rather than someone fawning over Jack.”

“Talk to you soon, Bitty.” Kent says before he and Bitty say their goodbyes. Kent walks back into the kitchen and places his hands on Peter’s hips, spinning him around so they are face-to-face.

“Eric Bittle says hi.” Kent grins as Peter does in fact have a conniption.

***

The Aces have a seven game winning streak, and Kent wants to keep it that way. Kent also makes sure Peter gets quality seats so Kent can see him for his own selfish reasons. Kent even starts giving an extra ticket to Peter for Bill, since they’ve become good friends. 

Peter has seen Kent receive hits that bruise, and even though it's sometimes through a television screen, doesn’t mean it’s less scary for Peter.

However, Peter has never witnessed Kent Parson in an actual fight. It’s mainly because Kent never gets himself into fights, since he’s paid to play not fight. Kent knows he’s not the biggest guy around, and picking fights with 6’4 NHL players is a stupid idea. Today is an exception.

Luther Erring, center of the Rangers, would not leave Kent alone tonight. His checks are hard and his words even harsher. The typical slang thrown out onto the ice is no different, but it catches Kent off guard when Luther mentions Peter. He doesn’t explicitly say Peter’s name, but as the two men wait for the puck to drop during their face-off, Luther says, “If you won’t fight me, maybe that tiny boyfriend of yours in the stands wants to have a chat with me afterwards.”

Kent doesn’t realize that maybe he has been being a bit obvious when it comes to Peter. Kent isn’t good at hiding things he’s passionate about. Kent treats Peter like any boyfriend would, even in public. He sure doesn’t kiss him in public, but they go to lunch and occasionally dinner, and Peter always watches Kent’s games. He might not always be watching in person, but Peter turns on the game in the bar when he’s bartending at night. 

Kent sure doesn’t regret flaunting Peter around either— In fact, he really doesn’t care that much. If people assume things, Kent isn’t going to lie about it. Jack was always better at keeping everything to himself, but Kent is the exact opposite. 

“You wouldn’t last five seconds “chatting" with my boyfriend.” Kent quips, and before the puck even hits the ice, Luther throws his gloves down. 

Luther also throws the first punch, but Kent has played hockey long enough to know how to handle fights. The fist locks with the upper side of his helmet, but Kent quickly clutches the part of Luther's jersey of his upper arm. This way, Luther was unable to throw any more punches because his gear constricted him. Kent uses the leverage to get in a few good hits himself, and Luther's helmet flies off. Kent still has his gloves on, so all his hits manage to do is rough Luther up a little bit.

The refs pull them apart before it gets too serious, and the roar of the crowd is intense. Luther gets a penalty for roughing, but since Kent never took his gloves off, he's free to go.

Kent is wearing his usual smirk as the Aces fans cheer, but it's wiped right off his face when he sees Peter. His expression is horrified as he stares at Kent with wide, big green eyes. Bill stopped cheering too and was nudging his shoulder, but Peter only shook his head and plopped down back into his seat.

Kent felt discouraged the rest of the game, and on top of the fight, the Aces end up losing in overtime. They have two more games that will give the Aces a chance to lock themselves a spot in the playoffs. They are third in their division, so they just have to keep it that way.

Kent has to wait until he gets back to his apartment to talk to Peter. He still hasn't introduced Peter to his teammates, and Kent thinks maybe he finally should.

Peter isn't in Kent's apartment when he gets home. Kent slowly starts to feel sick to his stomach. Is Peter mad at him? Why would he be? 

Kent doesn't use his key to enter Peter's apartment, he just knocks. It didn't feel right barging in if Peter is- for an unknown reason- mad at him. 

The door opens and Peter looks up at him, his face tired and calculating. He's already dressed in his pajamas, loose sweats and a worn out t-shirt.

“You're mad at me." Kent states, and Peter steps aside so Kent can enter.

"I'm not mad." Peter says after he sits himself at the kitchen counter.

"You look mad." Kent raises an eyebrow, going to lean against the counter. "You weren't at my place when I got home."

Peter sighs sadly before saying, "I know it's part of your job, the fighting, but I'm not stupid either." Peter looks down at his hands. "You usually don't fight.”

“He threw the first punch.” Kent says, a little defensive. “I was protecting myself. Would you rather me stand there and do nothing?” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, Kent.” Peter sounds exasperated. “I really don’t care who started it, I just… I just don’t like it.”

Kent feels anger flare up, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s legitimately mad at Peter. Peter isn’t allowed to tell Kent what to do. No one is. If this conversation is going where he thinks it’s going, Kent wants no part of it. Kent doesn’t get into fights, but when he does he loves to pump up the crowd. He can’t be worrying about Peter’s reaction.

“You want me to stop the fighting all together?” Kent doesn’t take a seat, he remains standing. Maybe they should just take a break from each other tonight. They have been together twenty-four seven, so maybe a night apart will do them good. “I guess the next time someone says something terrible about you I’ll laugh it off.” Kent knows his voice is dripping with venom, and he isn’t exactly sure how to stop it. "For extra measure, maybe I’ll just stand there and let them beat me up—“

Kent stops himself when he sees all the color drain from Peter’s face.

“This was because of me?” Peter asks quietly. 

“Uh… Yeah. I guess we’re kind of obvious.” Kent presses his elbows against the marble counter and he feels the cold seep into his skin.

Peter rubs a hand over his face. “Kent, I’m not telling you to stop fighting, okay? I get it. It's hockey. Before you jumped to conclusions and got all defensive, I was just going to say I was worried. I didn’t go to your apartment tonight, because I thought you wanted to be alone after your loss. I’m not mad about the fight, okay? I just don’t like it because I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” He takes a shaky breath and removes his hand from his face. “Oh god, and it was because of me—“

“Peter, what is this about?” Kent pushes himself off the counter so he can circle and take a seat next to Peter at the barstool. He feels like a dick now.

Peter doesn’t look at him, he just plays with the sleeve of his sweater. “People started saying things to me at games. You know, about me and you. And I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want you to worry. I know you don’t want to come out yet, for good reason.”

“Oh yeah, about that—“ Kent starts, but Peter cuts him off. 

“Hold on, let me finish.” Peter gives him a stern look and Kent shuts his mouth. “I’m just afraid something is going to happen to you, Kent. I’ll be watching and I won’t be able to do anything about it. And I just—“ Peter reaches out and grabs Kent’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I really, really don’t want to go through what Eric Bittle did. I don’t want to be bartending and see someone hurt you like that just for loving me.”

“I’m too fast.” Kent says gently tugging Peter’s hand so he stands up, placing himself in-between Kent’s legs. Kent releases his hand to place his own on Peter’s waist. “I think I am going to come out. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’m already out to my team, and I want them to meet you. They’ve seen your hickies.”

“Oh god, that’s embarrassing.” Peter’s cheeks grow red. 

“I’m serious, though.” Kent presses. “But I’m not doing a stupid press conference. That’s fucking bullshit. You don’t see our goalie Jeff announcing who he’s seeing, so why should I have to? People can draw their own conclusions, and if I’m asked about it I'll just be honest. So far it’s been working."

Peter simply stares at him for a moment like he’s deciding on what to say. “Are you serious about this? Kent, I don’t want you getting hurt because of—“

“Like I said.” Kent slides his hands down from Peter’s waist to sneeze Peter’s ass. “I’m fucking fast. The fastest player in the league.” 

Peter narrows his eyes playfully. “That’s quite a title. And an ego."

“We’re going to breakfast tomorrow.” Kent declares, his tone indicating there is no room for argument. “I’m going to hold your hand and everything. I’ll be all boyfriendy and shit.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Peter frowns. “Like you said, we should act like we normally do.”

Kent shrugs. “Yeah but before I didn’t do those things because I wasn’t out yet to the world. This should be fun. I can see the TMZ headline now: Kent Parson Holds Hands With a Guy? Is He-“ Kent gasps. “Gay?” 

Peter laughs and reaches up to cup Kent’s cheeks in his hands. “I get it, jeez. I know you lost, but I’ll give you a blowjob anyway.” 

Kent can’t help the smile spreading across his face. “You’re so generous.” 

“That’s just the kind of guy I am.” Peter winks. 

***

It doesn’t take long for someone to ask him about Peter. 

“There are rumors about you and a man being awfully close, what do you have to say about that?” A reporter had asked him.

Kent only shrugged it off. “Nothing really, because it’s not a rumor.” 

The reported had gaped at him, at a loss for words. “That man at all your games is your…?”

“Boyfriend. Isn’t he hot?” 

Bitty found that line hilarious, apparently. When Kent skyped both Bitty and Jack, Bitty couldn’t stop laughing. Jack looked so gone on Bitty as usual, so Kent couldn’t really see why Bitty was so worried. Bitty said Jack has gradually been getting worse with communication, rather than better. He lost his brace and didn’t even bring Bitty to the doctor with him. 

Kent decided to do something stupid, like approach Jack about it himself. 

“What’s up with you?” Kent asks over the phone, watching as Peter finally paints the view from Kent’s large apartment window. 

“What?” Jack sounds confused, which further frustrates Kent. 

“Bitty says you’ve been acting really weird lately. Not even just lately. He says you’ve been off the past three weeks.”

There’s a long pause before; “Since when do you and Bitty talk all the time?” He sounds a bit angry, which is uncharacteristic of him. He’s also aware that Bitty has mentioned he’s spoken to Kent on several occasions, so he’s not sure where the anger is coming from. It’s not like it was a secret.

“I don’t know, Jack. I don’t really keep track, would you like me to go back in my phone records and get you an exact number?” Kent replies, going for snarky to lighten the mood, but Jack doesn’t sound any happier. 

“Do you two discuss my behavior on a regular bases?” Jack asks dryly.

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Kent asks a bit annoyed himself. “Are you angry about not being able to play and taking it out on Bitty? Because if so, that’s a dick move—“

“Of course I’m not!” Jack snaps. “It’s just a fucking game, Kent."

There’s silence on both ends as Jack’s words hit them both. Kent isn’t aware that Jack’s feeling towards hockey changed so drastically. 

“Jack, seriously, what’s going on with you?” Kent asks more gently. 

There’s a long sigh into the phone, then a long pause. “Does Bitty really think I’m acting weird?” He asks quietly, his bad mood suddenly disappearing.

“Yeah.” Kent says blatantly. “He’s been trying to figure out what’s wrong with you for weeks. He thinks it’s his fault that you’re acting so distant.” 

“Oh no, that’s not… That wasn’t my intention.” Jack says, sounding strangely distant and sad. 

Kent’s breath catches in his throat. “Jack, you’re literally making no sense.” 

"I'm going to go bake something for him or plan something romantic... I don't even know. I'm not even allowed to use my phone. Other people have to make calls for me so I don't look at a screen..."

Jack is sounding a bit panicky, and Kent opens his mouth to help him out a little bit, maybe help him plan something romantic for Bitty, but the line goes dead.

***  
“Kent—“ Peter’s nails dig into Kent’s shoulders as he rides him at a faster pace than usual. “You feel so good—“

There’s a loud banging on the front door and Kent growls in frustration. 

“Just ignore it.” Peter reaches down between them to grab his own dick. 

Kent’s phone starts ringing and the banging continues. Kent planned on ignoring it, but Peter stops and Kent actually whimpers in protest. 

“All these noises are kind of killing the mood.” Peter frowns, resting his sweaty forehead against Kent’s. 

Kent decides to deal with the door banger first and take out his frustration that way. Kent just got back from a long roadie and he was looking forward to spending the night with his boyfriend. 

As soon as he jerks open the door to give the person a piece of his mind, he stops right in his tracks. Because a tear streaked Eric Bittle with a hockey bag over his shoulder is the last thing he expected to see. 

Two sniffs before Bitty whimpers, “Jack cheated on me."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took 300 years to finally finish this. Life got super busy and i've worked on it whenever I could, and finallllyyyyy I finished. Anyway, sorry about the tense changes I have a problem with that and I'm trying to fix that someday but today is not that day

“Bitty?” Kent can’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “What the hell are you talking about?"

Bitty continues to sniff, still clearly upset. His eyes are red and puffy. “Can I come in? Sorry to bother you at this time of night but my plane just landed and it was the only flight I could get out here on such sort notice and this is the only place Jack won’t look for me—“ Bitty’s rambling and his words become jumbled, so Kent places a soft hand on Bitty’s shoulder before guiding him inside. 

“Whoa whoa, slow down.” Kent steers him towards the kitchen, just in case Peter is still naked on the couch. “What the hell is going on, Bitty?”

“Well.” Bitty wipes at his face and plops down on the stool of Kent’s kitchen counter. “You know how Jack has been acting super weird, right?"

“Yes…” Kent trails off, already preparing himself for the worst even though he’s pretty sure he just heard it.

Bitty avoids Kent’s eyes and stares directly behind him. “Today has been the worst day of my life, and that’s saying a lot because I have had some pretty rough days. I’m late to class because I got caught in traffic driving from Providence, then I realized I forgot to print my essay that was due three days ago so now it will be four days. Then, if you can believe this, I get fired from that cute bakery across from Jack’s apartment because I’ve missed so many days looking after Jack.” Bitty shakes his head, eyes growing dark and menacing, and Kent is momentarily scared for what comes next. Bitty’s laugh is not humorous at all. It’s actually quite terrifying. 

“Oh, and then I return to my boyfriend’s apartment, ready to just snuggle and complain about my shitty day, just to see him kissing another man—“

“Wait, what?” Kent has to cut him off, because that didn’t make any sense. At all. Kent knows Jack is acting weird, but Jack isn't someone who would cheat. “Are you sure?”

Bitty cuts a glare to Kent, who flinches. It was a pretty stupid question to ask on Kent’s part, but Bitty’s face softness as he sighs. “Sorry. That glare wasn’t for you. I just… Of course I’m sure, Kent. You think I would fly all the way down here if I wasn't one hundred percent sure? It all adds up. Why he avoided me whenever he could and why he was so closed off… Since I was fired today, I got home earlier. I probably wouldn’t have seen them if I worked my shift today."

“What… What happened?” Is all Kent can think of to ask. 

Bitty shrugs, and his face grows extremely sad… Well, sad isn’t the right word for it. He looks absolutely crushed. “I just kind of looked at them, and Jack pulled off right away but I didn’t exactly stay long enough for him to explain. I packed up most of my stuff in his hockey bag because I’m petty and I just… Left.” 

“He didn’t even stop you?” Kent is just having a hard time believing this. Jack and Bitty were... Jack and Bitty. They are supposed to end up together, so how could it have ended up like this? 

Bitty sighs and throws his head into his hands. “I think he tried? I don’t know. I think he just thought I was hiding in his room, because he was too busy yelling at Blake.”

“Isn’t Blake the AHL player that was looking after him?” Kent asks, because that’s just another level of fucked up. 

“Yeah… And you know, I honestly don’t even care I didn’t let Jack defend himself. I left quietly anyway, so I’m not even sure he knows I left in the first place."

“Has he tried calling you?” Kent tries. 

“I don’t know.” Bitty answers in a clipped tone. “I turned my phone off during the flight and I haven’t opened it since.”

Kent wonders who it was calling him before if it wasn’t Bitty, but he decides to wait and check later. “Well, you’re welcome here. Just a warning, although you are probably already aware, Peter is a huge fan—“

There’s a surprised yelp as Peter drops his phone to the ground and it shatters. Kent stares down at Peter’s broken phone with a frown, but Peter doesn’t even seem to notice it.

“You’re… Oh my god, Kent! What the hell? I didn’t know he was coming!” Peter presses both palms on the sides of his cheeks as if that will calm him down or fix his broken phone. Kent will have to buy him a new one.

Bitty laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach his face. “This wasn’t planned, sorry to ruin your night… I just had nowhere else to go and I can’t really afford to pay for a hotel right now. Considering I’m going to have to move out—“

Peter’s expression morphs into a frown as Kent stops Bitty from continuing. A lot of this still didn’t add up. “Bits, I’ll show you to the guest room. You should get some rest, okay?”

“Yeah… Okay.” Bitty replies with a tired frown. “I really am pretty tired and I deserve to sleep. Screw Jack Zimmermann and his stupid AHL player. Blake can barely make a grilled cheese--" Bitty storms off to the guest room while rambling, somehow already knowing where it is. 

Peter walks over to Kent and whispers. "I can make a grilled cheese."

Kent raises an eyebrow and gives him a small smirk. “Are you thinking of leaving me for Bitty?"

Peter reaches up and flicks his ear, something he does when Kent jokes about their relationship like that. Peter hands Kent his cell phone with a perplexed look on his face. "So...not to cross any boundaries, but your phone started ringing again and I glanced to see who called to make sure it wasn't important, and Jack Zimmermann called."

Kent's breath catches as he gives Peter a serious look. "He called me?" 

"Four times and one voicemail." Peter responds.

Kent plays the voicemail and holds it in between his and Peter's ears.

'Hey Kent...' Jack trails off on the phone, sounding extremely panicked. 'So, I need some help because Bitty just up and left and I can't find him anywhere. He's not at school or Shitty's or anywhere he could possibly crash for the night, and I'm really worried but I'm not allowed to drive and I kicked Blake out so I was wondering if you could call him and just check he's okay? I know why he isn't answering my calls, but maybe he'll answer yours. Uh... thanks.'

Peter continues to look confused. Kent can relate. "What the hell is going on? Is everything okay?"

“Honestly?” Kent glances down at Jack’s hockey bag. “I have no fucking clue."

And Kent has a hopeful, desperate feeling that this is all a terrible misunderstanding.

****

Kent makes sure to wake up early with Peter, purposely before Bitty. The two stand next to each other in the kitchen, sharing a cup of coffee because they are almost out and Bitty should have a cup. They stare at the door like a monster is about to emerge.

"Do you think Jack actually did it?" Peter whispers, even though there is no way Bitty can possibly hear him.

Kent takes his question into consideration before giving an honest answer. "It just doesn't seem like something Jack would do. If anything, my bets would have been on Bitty having an affair since he’s obviously such a sex magnet for you--"

Peter slaps Kent's arm and Kent shoots him an irritated look. "Ow, what the hell was that for?"

Peter gives him a pointed look, like Kent should already know what's wrong. "That's a terrible thing to say. Eric Bittle would never cheat." 

A slow smile creeps up Kent's face. He has chirp material that will last him decades involving Peter's admiration for Bitty. "I still can't get over the fact you're an Eric Bittle super fan. Of course the man I fall for has to have a weird infatuation with my ex's boyfriend."

Peter narrows his eyes and Kent kicks himself, realizing what he just said.

"You mean Eric's boyfriend is your ex boyfriend?"

Kent hesitates before saying, "What is the answer that will get me laid later?"

Peter let's out a long, audible breath. "Your life is a living soup opera I swear to--"

"Good morning, boys!" Bitty greets them with a fake cheerful attitude that has both of them jumping in surprise.

Bitty was dressed and ready to go only god knows where, and Peter stood frozen in his spot before Kent breaks the awkward silence.

"Morning!" Kent smiles and turns towards the coffee maker. "I'll make you a cup. We saved the last for you."

Kent hears Bitty clear his throat and say to Peter, "I didn’t properly introduce myself. Sorry for being so rude, I was in a bad mood. You can just call me Bitty."

"Careful Bits, you'll break him." Kent snorts before sliding a cup of coffee across the counter to Bitty.

"Shut up, Parson." Peter throws over his shoulder. He shakes Bitty's hand and gives him a bright smile. "Peter. Nice to meet you in person... I mean, I've been watching you since the beginning. When you first started out."

"Really?" Kent jumps in before Bitty can say anything.

Peter pulls his hand away and shrugs. "You seem surprised."

"You just started the baking a few months ago." Kent points out. "I thought you just found him."

"Correction; I didn't attempt the baking until a few months ago. And as you might remember, I almost burned down my apartment so obviously I still wasn't ready."

Bitty laughs, and it's surprisingly genuine for someone who witnessed the love of their life with someone else. "Y'all are adorable. And Peter, I'll be glad to teach you how to make something simple."

Peter sucks in a quick breath and Kent groans. "Bits, stop breaking my boyfriend I have plans for him later."

"Kent!" Peter suddenly jumps, a blush creeping up his dark cheeks. God, that's adorable, Kent thinks.

"What's on the agenda today, Bitty?" Kent directs the conversation elsewhere. 

"I was gonna go skating." Bitty shrugs. "Don't worry, I won't get in your way. I just need time to figure things out."

Kent glances at the clock and clears his throat. "Peter, you have work in thirty minutes." 

Peter bolts towards the bedroom like Kent flipped a switch. "Your butt looks super nice today, babe!” Kent calls out to him.

The door to Kent's bedroom closes as Peter shouts, "Shut up!"

Kent looks over at Bitty and offers a weak smile. "You feeling better this morning?"

Bitty sighs and looks down at the cup of coffee he hasn't touched. "Nope. I woke up and thought it was all a terrible nightmare, but then I saw the large kitten painting on the wall and realized that no, it was not in fact a dream."

Kent goes through a quick pros and cons list on voicing his opinion, and decides that Bitty always just wants to hear the truth. "Bitty, Jack has been calling me--"

His head snaps up and he quickly searches Kent's face before saying, "You didn't tell him I was here, right?"

"No, I didn't answer him." Kent frowns and leans across the counter, resting his head in his hand. "Bitty, maybe you should talk to him. This has to be a misunderstanding."

"No misunderstanding." Bitty doesn't say it harshly, his voice is just sad. "I didn't paint a picture in my mind. I wasn't tired and just saw something that wasn't there. And I surely wasn't dreaming. I wish people would stop telling me I'm crazy, because it only makes me feel worse." After a beat of silence, he adds softly, "I wish I were crazy." 

Kent's hope is quickly starting to dwindle, because Bitty had a point. Bitty isn't the kind of person to make irrational decisions and he definitely isn't the kind of person who would accuse Jack of cheating if it weren't true. 

"I'm out!" Peter runs up to Kent and quickly kisses him on the cheek and throws a friendly smile over to Bitty. "I'll see you guys later."

"Goodbye my love life joy and only reason for--" Kent calls as Peter cuts him off with a, “Zip it, Parson!" But it's nothing less than fond.

Kent glances at Bitty who is just staring at Kent's wall with a smile that's painfully sad, and he's so fed up with sad Bitty, because sad Bitty just makes him feel miserable, so on impulse as always Kent says: 

"Hey, why don't you come with me to practice today?" Kent silently hopes to whatever entity running things up there won't make it a problem.

Bitty frowns, face thoughtful. "Really? Are you sure? I don't want to create any problems--"

"I'm sure it's fine, Bitty. You seem to be famous in the YouTube community and Alice, the head of PR, is always looking for new ways to promote us on social media." 

Bitty's face lights up a little at the mention of social media. "Jack doesn't even know how to work Instagram. I post all his pictures. He wouldn't know where I am."

"Great! Sounds like a plan!" Kent grins, throwing an arm around Bitty. This should be interesting.

***  
Alice seemed to know exactly who Eric Bittle was, and was absolutely ecstatic Bitty would be with the team and posting pictures of his time with them. 

The universe looked like it was being kind for once, until another call from Jack ruined the facade. 

Kent, Bitty and Peter all met up for lunch when Jack decided to call. Against Kent's better judgement, he excused himself and took the call outside.

"What do you want, Jack?" Kent couldn't help the bitter tone in his voice. 

"He's with you and you didn't even tell me?" Jack sounded pissed off, which only made Kent surpass annoyed and straight to angry.

"You know what? Fuck you, Zimmermann. You think I would tell you where Bitty was after what you did to him? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

There’s a long pause before Jack says, “What did he tell you I did?” His voice is small, like he’s terrified of the answer. 

“Jack.” Kent grits his teeth, trying to wrap his head around a cheating Jack Zimmermann. “You cheated on him. And you know what? You’re a fucking idiot.”

“He thinks I cheated on him?” Jack sounds like he’s about to be sick.

“I know you’re emotionally inept, but this is a whole other level, Zimms. Kissing another man that is not your boyfriend falls under the category of cheating. I hope you have a horrible fucking day—“ Kent pulls his phone away to hang up, but Jack yells on the other line for him to stop. 

“Kent! I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me. I was too shocked to move right away but I did pull away and I made sure Blake knew my feelings about it. I know I should have spoken to Bittle first, but I was just so angry… At everything. At my whole situation and that just was the final-“ He stops his angry rampage before taking a deep breath. “Listen, I went to look for Bittle but he was gone, and so was his toothbrush and my hockey bag.” A pause, then "Kent, you have to believe me.” Jack’s voice sounded pretty desperate, but it’s easy to lie when the other person can’t see your face.

Kent swallows and glances through the window to see Peter and Bitty laughing at their table. Bitty might get suspicious if Kent is out here for so long, and the last thing Kent wants is for Bitty to disappear from his apartment. Then nobody would know where he was.

“Jack, you’ve been acting strange around Bitty for a while. How do you explain your sketchy behavior? Did you just decide to be a dick out of the blue? Or were you blaming someone else for something a homophobic asshole did?” Kent challenged. “Look, I have to go and frankly I don’t have time for this. If you want to go lie to your boyfriend, who I’m assuming won’t be your boyfriend for too long after this whole thing, I will not be your messenger.”

“Kent, you don’t understand—“

“Bye Jack.”

“Dammit, Kenny! Stop trying to hang up on me. I was acting weird because I was planning to propose to him!” Jack snaps through the phone, his shy demeanor suddenly vanishing. “I can’t lie to him, so it was just easier to be vague and avoid him. I realized- you know after being in a hospital for a week where I kept forgetting who my boyfriend was, I don’t know if you remember?” Jack adds bitterly. “-that if anything did happen to me more serious than a neck brace and severe concussion, I would have never married him. I would have gone my whole life without my own family with him, and that thought really sucks when it was so close to being reality. So please, as a friend, I’m asking you to help me fix this.”

When Kent doesn’t respond while processing Jack’s information, Jack adds in a more pleading voice. “Please, Kent. I can’t lose him.” 

“Okay fine. What do I have to do?” 

***

“What?!” Peter shrieks before Kent picks up a pillow and hits him with it. 

“Shut up. Bitty is already suspicious after my long phone call.” Kent whispers and leans up against the headboard. “So, Bill is basically our only option.” 

“Doesn’t Jack have friends?” Peter says dryly. “Was Bitty his only friend? Because I’ve met couples like that.”

“I’m his friend.” Kent points out, but Peter doesn’t seem amused. 

“Bill has to work too, Kent. Just because he doesn’t seem as important to you or Jack—“

“Peter, babe, honey, lovebug, Bill is a die hard hockey fan. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that Bill wouldn’t drop everything to fly over to Providence and drive Jack Zimmermann to the lovely state of Nevada to propose to his boyfriend. Jack isn’t allowed to drive, nor is he allowed to fly. Otherwise, he’d probably be breaking into my apartment right now.”

“Kent—“ Peter sighs, but Kent just cuts him off again.

“Do it. Tell me Bill wouldn’t pee his pants at the offer. Look me in the eyes. I dare you.” Kent grabs Peter’s face in between his palms and forces Peter to look directly at him.

“Parson.” Peter tries to shake out of his grip, but Peter’s small smile is growing larger.

“Do it. Bet you can’t. Bet you can’t do it—“

“Kent!” Peter laughs as Kent holds Peter in place as he tries to squirm away. 

Kent easily dips his head down and kisses Peter softly on the lips. It was intended to be a quick innocent kiss, but those never really end the way they were intended. Peter is actually the one who turns it into a filthy move of extreme tongue action and aggressive groping. Peter ends up losing the fight and finds himself under Kent, who pulls up slowly to look down at his flushed boyfriend. 

“You should move in with me.” Kent says, no smirk on his face. He’s keeping his offer completely serious so Peter doesn’t laugh it off as another snarky comment. 

Peter searches Kent’s face for that exact reason before a slow smile spreads across his face. “You want to move in together?”

“You practically live here already. You even have clothes in my drawers and a cute little toothbrush in my bathroom. Just move all your art stuff up here and we’ll just make it official.” Kent can’t keep the smile off his face, but it disappears immediately when he sees the crushed look on Peter’s face.

“I can’t.” Peter says suddenly, trying to worm his way out from under Kent. However, Kent doesn’t let him.

“Peter, why?” Kent frowns, trying to search his face for something. Peter is pretty talented at hiding his feelings when he wants to. It’s almost impossible to decipher him. However, that doesn’t stop Kent from trying. “Do you not want to live with me? I know I’m a mess but—“

“It’s not that. I would love to live up here with you.” Peter reaches up and places his palms on the nape of Kent’s neck, rubbing his thumb in small circles which causes Kent to shiver. 

“Then what’s stopping you?” Kent asks, still trying to come up with reason why Peter would turn him down.

“Kent, even if we split the rent, I can’t possibly afford it. I’m still paying off my dad for my current place while paying my own rent at the same time.” 

“But… You wouldn’t have to pay anything.” Kent says, frowning when he sees Peter’s face drop. “It’s not really that big of a deal, Peter.”

“Yes it is!” Peter argues, but his voice is soft, not angry. “Kent, I refuse to mooch off of you. I know you wouldn’t care paying for me, but I would care. People who live together usually split the rent, because that’s what is fair. They’re a team. I’m not a leech, I’m your boyfriend.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” Kent asks, an idea brushing across his brain. 

“Of course, Kent. I would love to live with you—“

“Then I’ll just move in with you.” Kent challenges, and Peter just stares up at him in shock. 

“What? But you love this place. The view is amazing and—“

“So what? It’s too big for one person anyway. It’s fucking lonely when you’re not around, that’s what it is.” Kent sighs when Peter doesn’t answer, but he holds his ground. 

“Kent.” Peter pushes the back of Kent’s neck, and Kent follows Peter’s direction until their foreheads are resting on each other’s. “I love you. Like a whole fucking lot.”

“I would hope so.” Kent smiles, hardly able to contain his happiness. “I mean, you did point out early how you were my boyfriend, and not in fact a leech. I was a bit confused, but I’m glad you cleared it up—“

Peter interrupts his long chirp with a kiss and pulls back just a little, still close enough that their lips touch when he speaks. “Shut up, Parson.” 

***  
Kent turned out to be absolutely right (not to his surprise), and Bill was practically jumping out of his skin. This plan would take a few days, but Kent has a feeling Bitty isn’t going anywhere soon.

The last Peter heard, Bill landed in Providence on his way to Jack’s. 

“Honey, you’re being too soft.” Bitty frowns, watching Peter knead out the dough. 

“Weird,” Kent remarks, head rested in his hands while he watches them. “That’s never been a problem for him before.”

“I feel like you only make sexual innuendos when other people are around, because you know I don’t laugh at them when we’re alone.” Peter says without taking his focus off the dough. 

Bitty smiles up at Kent with amusement. “You do this in front of your teammates?” 

“For sure.” Kent can’t keep the grin off his face. “Peter’s face gets all red and he stammers. It’s super cute, I can’t help it.” 

“I’m glad my public displays of embarrassment are cute to you.” Peter says with a small smile on his lips, letting Kent know he really didn’t mind. 

“They even gave him a hockey name.” Kent adds. “That’s when you know they like you.” 

“What is it?” Bitty asks, looking insanely curious. 

“Swoops.” Peter mutters. “It’s fucking weird, and it makes no sense. Bitty makes sense. Parser makes sense. I don’t understand hockey culture, and quite frankly the NHL just reminds me of thirty- soon to be thirty one- large cults.” 

“Why Swoops?” Bitty places a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. 

“Because this little shit would rather watch a basketball game than watch his boyfriend’s hockey games.” Kent shrugs one shoulder, making his tone dismissive. 

“That was one time!” Peter’s head snaps up with a laugh. “And I still don’t know how you found out about that.” 

“I have my ways—“ Kent’s phone cuts him off, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check who it was. That wasn’t exactly the most sly decision, considering Bitty was standing right next to him. 

“You could have answered it, Kent. I’m not forbidding you to talk to him.” Bitty says once Kent lets the phone go to voicemail. 

“Okay, since we’ve opened this can of worms,” Kent says suddenly, ignoring the look he gets from Peter. “Bitty, how are you holding up with all of this? I haven’t brought it up since two days ago.”

“Can we, uh, maybe not talk about it?” Bitty says timidly, staring down at the marble counter. 

The phone rings again, cutting through the silence like a knife. It’s Jack again. 

“You know, even after everything,” Bitty says over the ringing, his voice still quiet so Kent strains to hear him. “I still love him so much, and that’s what frustrates me the most.”

Once the ringing stops, Kent resists the urge to scream, ‘thank fucking god’ because at least Bitty still loves him. It’s not over yet. And Kent is pretty sure, deep down in Bitty’s little baker heart, he knows Jack didn’t do it. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have left.” Bitty runs a hand over his face. At this point, he’s more talking to himself, and Kent lets him. “I was just so… I don’t know. Usually we are so good with communication, but seeing him with Blake was so painful I just had to leave. It’s different from when Jack got hurt, because then I was just scared. Betrayal is a whole other sinking feeling and I can’t- I don’t want to love him anymore, but I can’t even help it.”

“You can’t just turn something like that off. It’s completely normal, Bitty.” Peter interjects, and Kent feels his entire body tense. If that’s true, then Kent can’t help wonder if Peter still loved his past boyfriend. Then came the ugly thought of Kent just being the rebound. Who jumps into a serious relationship right after the previous one failed?

Kent stood up casually and squeezes Bitty’s shoulder as he heads to his room. He’ll let Peter and Bitty talk about this for now, but Kent feels like being alone. 

When Kent got into his room, he sat on his bed and simply stared at the painting of the view from Kent’s apartment window, overlooking the city. Peter is damn talented, and Kent was really fucking proud of him. However, the thought of Kent being a rebound poisoned his thoughts. 

“Kent?” Peter slips into Kent’s room and gently shuts the door. “Are you okay?”

Even after this whole disaster of communication that has him involved with Bitty and Jack in the first place, Kent didn’t learn his lesson. He doesn’t look Peter in the eye when he says, “Yeah. I’m fine."

Peter waits, arms crossed and looking slightly suspicious. “Why did you just leave?”

“I…Needed a break from all this drama.” Kent lies. “Is that okay with you?” The last part wasn’t meant to be that snippy, and Kent immediately regrets it. 

“Kent, I’m not going to keep grasping in the dark.” Peter doesn’t seem angry, but he does sound slightly concerned. “What’s going on?” 

Kent doesn’t speak, contemplating actually telling Peter how he feels. But what would be the point anyway? Hearing Peter admit he’s trying to get over someone else is not what Kent wants to hear, so in a way, it will just make everything worse.

“I will literally stand here until you cough it up, Parson.” Peter says, breaking Kent away from his thoughts. He is still in his same spot, arms crossed and eyes worried. 

“I don’t think we should move in together.” Kent says instead, but looking at the way Peter’s face drops makes him regret being so selfish. Why does he always do this? 

But Peter clears his throat, seems to get his composure before responding in a very small voice, “Yeah, okay. That’s fine. It would be complicated anyway.”

And Kent wanted to tell him that it wouldn’t be complicated at all. In fact, it would be fucking fantastic. But for some reason, Kent is always finding new ways to ruin things for himself. 

***

The next two days weren’t exactly awkward… Just strange in a way. Peter still acted like his normal self, happy and charming. However, when they were alone he was slightly more reserved. It was such a small change that the only reason Kent noticed it was because he is completely obsessed with this boy.

However, focusing on Kent’s personal problems was not something he wanted to do. Instead, his full investment in the love life of Jack and Bitty distracted him enough to not be mad at himself for ruining his relationship with Peter. He wanted to move in with Peter so badly, and he fucked that up. 

All this focus on Jack and Bitty made him kind of pissed off at them, too. Why the hell couldn’t they work this out themselves? Kent wasn’t Dr. Phil nor was he a matchmaker. If Kent could just fucking tell Bitty what happened, or Jack could just Skype him like a normal person, Kent wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around Bitty. Who also wasn’t getting any better staying here. 

But leave it to Jack to want to make this grand gesture instead of the easy fix. Bitty was certainly using Kent and Peter as a distraction, but Kent was doing the same to him. It was a dangerous cycle that was getting very close to blowing up in everyone’s face.

It would take Bill and Jack about three days to get to Las Vegas, so Jack will either grace everyone with his presence tonight, or tomorrow morning. 

Bitty left this morning to do whatever the hell he does during the day when he’s not catching up on school, so Kent and Peter were left alone in the apartment. Kent already returned from his morning skate and Peter had off, so they just decided to watch television together in an almost comfortable silence. 

“Hey Kent?” Peter’s voice wasn’t small exactly, but it sure wasn't normal volume for him.

Kent slowly started to feel a bit panicky. “Yeah?”

“Do you think they are going to work things out?” 

Kent internally let out a large breath before he regained his composure. “I really do think so. I intend to receive a wedding invitation in the mail by Monday.”

Peter laughs lightly, snuggling himself closer to Kent, something Peter hasn’t done since Kent told him they shouldn’t move in together. “I love you a whole fucking lot, Kent Parson. So don’t go and do something stupid like break my heart.” 

Kent can’t really promise something like that, so he decides to kiss Peter instead. Peter kissed back like he did before this whole mess between them, and Kent was flooded with such intense relief he couldn’t help but respond with a certain hunger he didn’t realize he had. Peter made a surprised noise in his throat as he reached up to clutch at Kent’s hair. 

Kent gently pushes Peter’s back against the couch so Kent was hovering over him. Peter’s green eyes were bright and aroused, and his lips were slightly rosy from Kent’s intense kissing. With his arms resting on either side of Peter’s head, he caged him in. Kent dipped low before continuing his attack on Peter’s mouth. And that’s exactly what it was; aggressive and rough. Kent didn’t realize how touch-starved he was just for Peter.

Peter seemed to be enjoying all the attention he was getting, judging by the whimpers and low moans filling the silence of Kent’s apartment. Kent grounded his hips against Peter’s, but Kent was the one to moan this time. 

When they both got tired of the dry humping, Kent quickly unbuckled Peter’s belt and tossed it aside. He wasted no time settling himself between Peter’s thighs and pulling down his jeans, just to place his mouth on Peter the second he gets.

“Fuck.” Peter grunts, tangling his hand in Kent’s hair. When Kent swallows him all the way down, the noises Peter makes are so arousing Kent can’t help but whimper. 

So of-fucking-course, there’s a knock on the door. Like the universe’s way of saying, “You can’t be happy just yet, Kent!” 

Because a knock didn’t mean Bitty, because he had a key. A knock meant Jack. 

“Oh boy. Here we go.” Peter sighs with, most likely, sexual frustration. Kent pulls off of Peter and groans, but not from arousal. The forever awaited Bitty and Jack confrontation was definitely a mood killer. 

Peter stood up and pulled up his jeans, going to answer the door while Kent pulled his shirt back on. The first person Kent heard was Bill, already recounting his whole adventure with Jack to Peter. Kent met them in the kitchen, where Jack was sitting on a stool and drumming his fingers. His head snaps up like he expected Bitty to be entering the room, but his face immediately fell when he saw Kent.

“Gee. Thanks.” Kent mutters as he leans against the doorframe. Jack looked so incredibly nervous, Kent felt bad for him. His anxiety had to be through the roof, judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the fact his knee wouldn’t stop bouncing.

“Hi, Kent.” Jack gave him a small smile nonetheless. “I’m assuming Bits is not here?” 

“No… He left this morning. He should be back soon, though.” Kent assures him, walking over to Peter and Bill’s place across from Jack. 

Like Eric Richard Bittle was summoned by the mere use of his name coming from Jack’s lips, the door opens followed by a, “Why is it so quiet in here? I assumed you two would be bickerin'—“ 

No one spoke, only watched as Bitty stopped in immediate horror as he dropped his backpack to the ground.

“Hey, Bittle.” Jack was obviously soaking him all in, like he hadn’t seen him in years. 

A beat of silence, then, “You told him that I was here?” Bitty avoided Jack and directed his attention towards Kent. He didn’t exactly look pissed, but Eric Bittle sure wasn’t happy either. 

Kent opened his mouth to respond, but Bitty held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t answer that. Of course you did, I was stupid to think you wouldn’t.”

“Can we not project our anger onto other people? And that’s coming from me.” Kent realized his bitter tone was not helping the situation at all, but he was actually quite fed up with all of this. Bitty was pointing fingers and he didn’t even listen to Jack speak yet. “Why don’t you two hash this out—“

Jack was already one step ahead of him. He stood up, but didn’t approach him. “Bitty, listen to me—“

“I came here to think, okay?” Bitty’s angry demeanor seemed to disappear, and now he just looked scared. “I just needed time away from you to cope with everything, but then I realized I hate being away from you, so then I had to figure out how I’m going to move on from this because it’s worse to not be with you than get over what you did and say goodbye and…" His rambling died out, and he took a shaky breath.

“You would still stay with me?” Jack looked personally offended on Bitty’s behalf, and Kent resisted the urge to yell at Jack to get to his point. 

“Maybe we should leave them alone…” Peter whispered, but made no effort to move. Kent understood why, because for the past week they have been trying to get these two to sort things out. God forbid no one was here to do damage control and this whole proclamation of love didn’t work out. Because what haunts Kent the most is that if these two can’t work things out, no one fucking can. That thought was scary. Especially with his current situation with Peter. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bitty went right back to being angry, and Kent wanted to slap his hand over his face. Jack just missed a golden opportunity. 

“Bitty, I didn’t cheat on you.” Jack finally took the first step to approach him, but Bitty only backed away from him. “Why the hell would I ever do that? I don’t understand how you even thought I would be capable of something like that—“

“Because I walked in on you with someone else, Jack!” Bitty went from angry to livid in only a matter of seconds. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“He kissed me, Bittle.” Jack seemed uncharacteristically calm. "I didn’t kiss him back and I pulled away as soon as it happened. You know I’m not that kind of person. You know I wouldn’t do that to you. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t dreading the recovery time. I was looking forward to spending all that time with you, so why on earth would I give up what I have with you?”

“Then why were you acting so weird?” Bitty stopped raising his voice, so Kent hoped that meant these two would stop going back and forth and just make up already. He needed them too.

“Bitty,” Jack reaches out and gently takes Bitty’s hand in his. “I wanted to propose to you, and you know I’m a terrible liar.” Jack’s smile was small and uneasy. “I wanted to wait until I got that stupid brace off to do it.”

Kent is pretty sure he wasn’t the only one holding his breath in the room. Peter clutched Kent’s arm in anticipation, because Bitty was just giving Jack this blank stare. Then, like Kent was really fucking afraid of, the whole thing blew up. 

Bitty slipped his hand out of Jack’s, giving no one the slightest clue to how he was feeling. “So basically,” Bitty says, his voice a dangerous calm. “You let me think you cheated for almost a week."

Jack took a few moments to recover before responding, “I tried to call you, Bits. You wouldn’t answer."

Bitty snorts before shaking his head. “I listened to all your voicemails, Jack. You couldn’t have dropped that bomb somewhere in there?”

Then the bickering started.

“How was I supposed to know you were listening to those? Besides, I wasn’t going to tell you what I have to tell you over a voicemail.”

“Well, since you’ve been conspiring with Kent this entire time, maybe you should have had him tell me what really happened. Because Jack Zimmermann, you broke my heart and let me wallow in that pain for a week. I was miserable.” Bitty started to shake, but it was a small movement. Kent almost missed it. “I had to try and mentally erase that image of you and that boy from my brain. I didn’t even know if you still wanted to be with me. Were you calling because you felt guilty? Or because you were mad because you got caught? I had no clue. So no Jack, I didn’t want to talk to you and listen to excuses. I wanted time to think and try and heal myself so I could forgive you."

“I would never ask you to do that.” Jack stresses, this time offended on his own behalf. "It’s not my fault you left without even talking to me first. What else did you want me to do? I came down here as soon as possible but I can’t exactly drive.”

Bitty nods, eyes on the door. “Okay. So this entire thing is my fault.” 

“No, Bits, that’s not what I’m trying to say—“

Bitty doesn’t cut him off with words, instead he picks up his backpack from the floor, and with tears in his eyes he walks out the door. 

There’s an eery silence in Kent’s kitchen, everyone momentarily stunned about the whole exchange.

Finally, a throat clears and shatters the silence. “Well… That didn’t go as planned.”

Peter shot Bill a glare while Kent forgot he was even here. 

“What am I going to do?” Jack looks over at Kent, eyes desperate for an answer.

“I don’t know, Zimms. I don’t know."

***

Peter was spread across Kent's chest, shirtless and perfect. His breathing calmed Kent to a certain extent, but Jack and Bitty's relationship was bothering him more than Kent thought necessary. 

Peter mumbled something in his sleep and it reminded Kent that he himself was still awake at three in the morning; worrying about a relationship that wasn't even his.

Kent slips out from under Peter to get something to eat in his kitchen. When he walked into his kitchen to see Bitty lying on the ground face up, it scared the shit out of him.

"Bitty, what the hell?" Kent hisses, crouching down onto his knees and staring at Bitty's sad eyes.

"I think I screwed up." Bitty mutters. "I was just so angry and hurt and I just... I don't even know, Kent. I just had to get it out and I didn't do it in the right way. Has that ever happened to you?" Bitty turns his head towards Kent and sniffles, his eyes looking remorseful. "Recently, I mean."

"If you mean sabotaging yourself for no fucking reason-" Kent decides to take a seat on the cold tile and looks down at Bitty as he crosses his legs. "-then yes, I do it all the time. My therapist says it's subconscious self preservation." 

Bitty frowns as he pushes himself off the floor and sits himself across Kent. "I'm a terrible friend."

Kent narrows his eyes in confusion; his statement seemed a bit random. "Excuse me?"

Bitty sighs and runs a hand over his face, and for the first time Kent is realizing how tired he looks. "You're so involved in me and I'm so involved in me that we didn't even get to talk about your boy." He smiles a bit, probably waiting for Kent to give him happy and mushy deets, but Kent directs his eyes to the tile beside Bitty.

"Kent..." Bitty says in a bit accusatory tone.

“I think I screwed up.” Kent sighs sadly. “I made a harsh assumption and he wanted to move in with me and I freaked out.”

“You mean freaking out because he wanted to move in with you?” Bitty questions. “That’s perfectly normal, Kent. I mean, this thing between you two is still growing—“

“But I asked him to move in with me.” Kent clarifies. “I wanted him too, but then I started thinking about his ex—“

“Never good.” Bitty interjects, and Kent shoots him a look from his unhelpful comment. He’ll worry about that later. 

“—and I figured I had to be a rebound, because he was telling you how it’s impossible to turn intense feelings off, since you and Jack were—still are— together for so long.”

“Oh Kent.” Bitty sighs, looking incredibly sad for Kent even though he has his own shit to deal with. Eric Bittle is an enigma. “Please talk to him? I can’t tell you one-hundred percent you aren’t a rebound, because I’ve only been here a couple days. However, from what I’ve seen I don’t think someone looks at their ‘rebound’ like that."

“I will if you will.” Kent smirks, causing Bitty to roll his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, I have every intention of proclaiming my love.” Bitty looks down at his hands. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll fix it.” 

“Yeah. Me too."

***

The next morning, Bitty left super early to avoid Jack, even though the poor guy was staying at a hotel somewhere nearby. Peter left to go to work, while Kent headed to practice. There was a weird routine starting to form between not only him and Peter, but everyone else invading his home with more drama than a season of Gossip Girl. 

Kent fully intended to speak to Peter, but he had to emotionally prepare himself before actually confronting his… ‘feelings’. 

The last thing he expected was to see Peter perched on the kitchen counter, his eyes wide behind his stereotypical hipster glasses. 

“Uh…” Kent trails off, dropping his hockey bag by the entrance and pulling off his snapback. “You okay?”

“Okay, so…” Peter trails off, his voice cutting off when something soft brushes against Kent’s bare calf. He glances down to see a small white kitten looking up at him with bright blue eyes. 

“What the hell?” Peter suddenly snaps. “That thing was ready to bite my face off!” 

“Babe, what’s going on? Who is this?” Kent tries to hide his smile when Peter glares at him for bending down to scratch the kitten’s head. 

“I wanted to make this big romantic gesture,” Peter motioned towards the small kitten, then wildly waves his arms. “Because I walk past this animal shelter every day and that little guy is always there alone, and I know you love cats but you said you couldn’t get one because no one would be here to take care of it. So I adopt him, and when you got home you were supposed to ask, “I can’t take care of him because I won’t be home enough” and I would respond with, “Actually, I can fix that problem because we should move in together.” but then I let him out of his little cage and he started scratching up furniture then he started scratching me—"

“Peter?” Kent cuts him off, not really knowing how to respond but getting too emotional to let him continue. "This is a girl. Maybe that’s why she’s being so rude to you.” Kent sits himself on the floor so he can play with her easier while she’s on her back, paws grabbing at Kent’s keys. 

“That’s your whole takeaway from everything I just said?” Peter asks, quietly and sounding very insecure. 

Kent stands and walks over to where Peter is sitting on the counter wearing two different socks, his Villanova sweatshirt swallowing him. The small kitten follows Kent, sitting by his foot as Kent settles his elbows on the counter. 

“No.” Kent answers simply, staring up at Peter. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I know things seem weird lately, and it’s my fault.” 

Peter frowns, looking away from Kent. “Yeah, I know things have been weird but it’s not your fault. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, I mean, people move on—“

“That’s not what I’m trying to say at all.” Kent cuts him off. “I’ll be honest with you right now. Something you said to Bitty freaked me out and I overanalyzed it, and I thought I was this rebound for you and you’d eventually leave.”

“Kent.” Peter groans, running a hand through his curls. “This entire time you thought I was using you to get over someone? What happened to communication?” 

Kent’s stomach drops because he knows he fucked up, so how the hell is he going to fix this? “I know I know, and I’m sorry—“

“Stop, don’t apologize. I’m like, offended on your behalf.” Peter laughs a little, and he reaches out to brush his fingertips along Kent’s jawline. “I said I love you, that’s not something I throw around.”

“Yeah. Uh, same here.” Kent kisses his forehead softly, his lips lingering for a few moments, chin bumping into the bridge of his glasses. “I’d love to move in with you, Peter. And thanks for the cat. She’s adorable.”

“More like demon spawn, but she’ll learn to tolerate me I guess.” Peter mutters, side-eyeing the kitten sniffing Kent’s ankle. 

“What’s her name?” Kent asks, suddenly directing his attention to the small animal. “Can we go shopping for her?”

“She doesn’t have one, and sure.” Peter hops off the counter, and the cat just stares at him. “I swear to Eric Bittle’s pies that animal wanted to murder me in cold blood five minutes ago.”

“She looks like a Kit Purrson to me.” Kent grins, glancing down at Peter as he clutches Kent’s bicep like a lifeline. 

Peter just laughs and shakes his head. “I hate you.” 

****  
Peter and Kent put Kit into her cage for safety reasons before they leave, considering they need to cat-proof various wires and kitchen appliances. Kent enjoyed showing off his boyfriend to the world as they went out for a nice dinner and spent about two hundred dollars at the pet store. 

The two men struggle to get to Kent’s apartment with the new cat supplies, but once they manage to get the door open, Kent nearly trips over a single shoe lying in the middle of the hallway.

The last thing Kent expected to find as he enters his living room is Jack and Bitty going at it on the couch. Their shirts were nowhere to be seen, their jeans discarded on the rug, and Eric Bittle between Jack Zimmermann’s legs, luckily not quite getting to the blowjob bit yet. 

Peter slaps a hand over his eyes as Kent gives them a bored look. 

“You should have put a sock on the door, Zimms.” Kent clears his throat, and Bitty whips around with bright red cheeks. Jack looks absolutely horrified. 

“Sorry?” Bitty says it like a question, even though he doesn’t look sorry at all. 

“I’m glad you two figured things out!” Peter offers, trying to sound polite but looking ridiculous with a hand covering his eyes. 

“I condone this,” Kent gestures vaguely to the position both are making no effort to change. “But like, do it in the bedroom.”

“I thought you were going to spend the night at Peter’s place.” Bitty grimaces. “Sorry Kent.” This time he looked genuinely sorry. 

Kent doesn’t exactly care, because this is payback for all the times those two ruined his alone time with Peter on that couch. It’s like that thing is cursed. 

“It’s okay. Kinkier things have happened on that couch.” Kent shrugs as Peter chokes on nothing from Kent’s reply. “Let’s go hot stuff, we’ve got a kitten to feed.” Kent squeezes his shoulder and guides him to the kitchen.

Once Peter removes his hand, his cheeks are bright red. “I feel like I violated something.” 

“Look at it this way, babe.” Kent wastes no time crowding Peter against the kitchen counter, caging him in between his arms. “How many people can say they saw their YouTube idol about to give an NHL star a blowjob?” 

“You, probably.” Peter smirks, and Kent leans forward to brush his lips against Peter’s ear. 

He waits a few moments, because he wanted to make this sexy and probably give a blowjob of his very own, but he suddenly stops. Because Kent just bought cat food for a kitten he shares with Peter, he’s moving in with Peter, and he doesn’t have to hide in a suffocating closet anymore.

“Hey.” Kent pulls back just a little, so he can look into Peter’s eyes without wavering or any hesitation. “I’m really fucking in love with you.” Then he remembers something Peter said to him a long time ago. “Don’t go doing something stupid like breaking my heart.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Parson.” Peter flicks his ear lightly, like he always does when Kent says something ridiculous about their relationship. And it’s exactly what Kent needed, because Peter thinks breaking the heart of Kent Parson is just as ridiculous as using George Clooney as a sugar daddy, or leaving Kent for Eric Bittle.

Then he repeats it, more softly and with more meaning, “Wouldn’t even dream of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini Epilogue 
> 
> ~ So Jack and Bitty obviously worked things out and yes, they will be getting married in the summer.
> 
> ~ Kent travels to Thessaloniki in the summer to meet Peter's parents and his wild family love Kent very much. Kent is also excited to have a nice tan before Jack and Bitty's wedding 
> 
> ~ Kit eventually learns to love Peter but always favors Kent of course

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is Zaddyzimmermann if you wanna come say hi


End file.
